It Rained That Day
by Windimere Wellen
Summary: Another twist on how Aragorn and Legolas met... Chapter 30...and I'm done. An explanation for the title enclosed in the story itself... Thanks for sticking with me, tell me what you think
1. There Were Nine

The road was unusually quiet and a very soft rain fell as dusk came slowly. Aragorn was alone on the road, wrapped in his travel stained elven cloak, which was soaked through from many hours of previous travel. Aragorn's walk was slow for he was very tired, as was his horse, which faithfully trailed behind the Ranger. Aragorn's bow was over his shoulder and his quiver was nearly full on his back. An elvish sword hung at his side and a jeweled dagger hung at his other hip. The Ranger had been traveling for many days, riding and walking hard to reach Rivendell with an important message straight from the Elven King of Mirkwood. Aragorn was eager to arrive, waiting impatiently to see his foster-father, Lord Elrond and his foster-brothers Elladan and Elrohir. He was close now, perhaps a day's journey, but Aragorn was filled with apprehension. The road was too quiet.  
  
Aragorn slowed his pace further and listened. There was no sound beyond the fall of rain. It was unnerving, for there was no rustle of wind or sound of bird. Aragorn's horse whickered, suddenly nervous. Aragorn froze and dropped down on the path, lying in the mud, listening to the ground. He lay there for a few moments, listening. Moments later he was on his feet, sword drawn. He turned to his horse, quickly deciding she was far too exhausted to carry him anywhere fast. Aragorn had felt the wet ground shake. Heavy horses, as many as ten, were riding towards him on the road and quickly. They could be harmless, but Aragorn had a feeling wherever or whatever it was, was decidedly .evil. Aragorn shuddered, pulling his cloak tightly about himself and putting the hood over his head. He whispered Elvish in his horse's ear, bidding her to hide and come back for him when the riders had passed. The horse seemed to understand and left the road.  
  
Aragorn could hear the approaching riders and he too stepped off the road, hiding in the brush, crouched down. He had sheathed his sword by then and held his bow now, arrow ready. When the Riders came into view, Aragorn felt as if the rain had turned to snow and his blood ran cold. Something about them struck fear into him. There were indeed ten horses. On nine of the horses, which where huge black monsters with cold steel armor, were nine riders, dressed entirely in black flowing robes. Their hoods were up, so he could not see their faces. Long, cruel swords hung at their sides. Aragorn briefly wondered if they had faces. The last rider was leading a brown horse, one that had armor that Aragorn recognized as being made in Mirkwood.  
  
On the horse was a bound figure, dressed in greens and browns. Aragorn supposed it was an elf. As the riders drew closer, Aragorn felt evil seem to spread around him, and it dawned on him that this was probably the threat that the message he carried spoke about, for these creatures were plainly evil and something of Sauron's hand. They were almost upon him when Aragorn felt as if the lead horse actually saw him. With an ethereal scream, the horse reared, causing the others to do the same, excepting the elf's horse, which seemed confused. The black horses all seemed to act as if they had been blinded and the riders fought for control. Aragorn knew that in some way, he had been discovered.  
  
Seizing the moment of confusion, Aragorn notched an arrow and shot. His aim was true and the arrow sliced through the rope that held the elf's horse to the hand of the black rider. His movement caught the attention of the riders, who, after controlling their very frightened steeds, began to dismount. Aragorn notched another arrow and took aim at the first rider and let the arrow go. The arrow struck the black cloaked figure, which screamed like a tortured bird, as if it had been burned. All nine of them seemed to grow furious and drew their swords. Aragorn was shocked that the rider he shot didn't even falter in step.  
  
Knowing he was horribly outnumbered, Aragorn contemplated a course of action, his number one choice being to flee. He didn't get the chance. The creatures were upon him in no time and they attacked relentlessly. Aragorn defended himself as best as he could, his skills being pushed to the limit. Every time he thought he just might make it, he remembered there were nine of them. He felt each blow whether he parried or not. The rider's attack never faltered and Aragorn grew weak and tired. He was cut and bleeding as the creatures sought to destroy him. He began to stumble and the swords bit into him here and there. Aragorn found that his vision was starting to blur and he knew he was losing the battle. The last blow was dealt, both figuratively and literally, when one of the riders found a hole in his defense and struck. The sword fell across Aragorn's chest, breaking both bone and skin. The blow knocked the wind out of Aragorn and his chest felt like it was on fire. Aragorn stumbled, falling to his knees. It hurt to breathe and his vision was going black. Another rider brought its sword down on Aragorn's back, cutting him viciously. Aragorn did not even have time to scream in pain before he lost consciousness and fell to the ground, dropping his sword. He landed on his side, breaking his bow, and lay still.  
  
The riders seemed to contemplate the still form of Aragorn son of Arathorn, the heir to the throne of Gondor. None of them seemed to want to touch him, even to check if he were alive. They all turned and walked away, leaving his still figure on the ground, in the mud, hidden far into the woods, where they hoped no one would ever discover him.  
  
These dark riders were Nazgul, ring-wraiths, Sauron's servants who were neither dead nor alive, serving evil because of their fall. If they had recognized the young man they had just fought as being the Heir of Isildur, they surely would have killed him and never even taken the chance of leaving him alive. However, they had not recognized him as any more than a meddling Ranger who had cost them an elf prisoner that had caused them annoyance. Returning to the road, they saw no sign of the brown horse or its rider. After a quick search, they gave up and re-mounted, thundering off down the path, not even taking the time to glance back.  
  
The rain continued to fall, growing steadier and the road became awash. Aragorn lay in the mud, off the path where the fight had occurred. He lay somewhat on his side, his bow broken beneath him, arrows from his quiver spread in the mud. His sword lay near him in the mud, which mixed with Aragorn's blood, washing over its blade. The Ranger did not move and the forest was once again far too quiet. 


	2. Many Questions My Dear Prince

Authors Note: Thank you so much for all the reviews! I wanted to keep writing, and you guys spurred me on! Here is the next installment and I do plan to go on. I'd love to know what you think of this one and if you have any suggestions. This is probably going to be a bit AU (obviously ;) ) and I'm not an expert on Tolkien lore, so I may have some discrepancies. That said, here is chapter 2.  
  
In the confusion, the brown horse had strayed away, urged by its fear of the riders. It trailed far into the woods, having caught the scent of Aragorn's horse. Its rider was entirely conscious and was more than confused. He had been blind folded for the trip, his hands bound behind his back and his feet tied tightly. The riders had been loath to touch him, but they had tossed him onto his own horse's back after they had caught him. He had been barely conscious at that time, but was now fully awake many hours later. He was unsure of how he had ended up where he was and how long they had been riding for. His confusion deepened when he heard one of the rider's horses screech in some sort of terror and he could feel all nine of them start of buck. Fear had crept into his mind, fearing that his own horse would buck and he would fall and be trampled. Something had upset the horses.  
  
Moments later he heard the singing of an arrow flying through the air and heard it slice cleanly through the rope guiding his horse. The captive was thrilled and hoped his horse would move away, though he was curious to see what was going on and who had attacked the riders. His horse moved away slowly and he could hear the sounds of a great sword fight going on and the grunts and soft cries of whomever it was that had startled the horses. As he listened closer, he realized that there was only one person fighting off the nine. The sounds became more faint the farther the horse traveled, but there was no mistaking the sound of the nine riding off.  
  
Legolas Greenleaf, the elf prince of Mirkwood, was relieved that his previous captors had ridden away without finding him, but he assumed the worst. If they were leaving, whoever had attacked them must be dead. Legolas wanted to be free and go back, to find out exactly what had happened, but it didn't seem as if his horse was in the mood to stop. Luckily, he was wrong. His horse came to an abrupt stop, causing Legolas to slide off. He landed hard on his side, his left arm hitting a rock. Legolas squirmed around a bit until he was able to position himself over the rock, where he proceeded to rub the ropes that bit into his wrists. After what seemed like forever, the ropes frayed and Legolas was able to free his hands. He ripped off the blindfold to find himself in a dense forest. His brown horse, Aluteir, was a few meters away nuzzling with a large black horse that could have easily been of elven breeding. The horse seemed anxious, but somewhat calmed by Aluteir. Legolas pulled the gag out of his mouth and hurried to untie his feet.  
  
"Finally. Aluteir! Come here boy," Legolas called the horse, who responded by plodding over to his master. The black horse, clearly a mare, followed Aluteir, looking somewhat nervous, if a horse could look nervous. Legolas got to his feet, somewhat shakily. It had been sometime since he had last stood. "What do we have here?" He asked aloud as he approached the black horse. She shied away from him, and unconsciously, he began to speak to her in his native elvish, telling her to be calm. It surprised him when she responded favorably, calming down to the point where he was almost sure she was used to hearing elvish. Surely her owner, perhaps the brave person who had attacked the riders, was an elf. Legolas rubbed her head and moved to look at what she carried - a bedroll, an extra quiver of arrows, a sheathed sword, and a leather pack. Her bridle was old and worn, but Legolas noted that she had been very well taken care of, well fed, well groomed, and seemingly happy, minus the fact that she was obviously missing her rider. "Well, I suppose I should try to find the road." As Legolas spoke to himself, the black mare moved away from him and began to trot away. Legolas was even more startled when Aluteir followed her. "Come back here Aluteir!" he called, but the horse did not heed him and he had to run to catch up, pulling himself up onto his horse's back. "Well, I hope that you know where you are going, because I surely do not."  
  
Neither horse disappointed Legolas, for they led him right back to the road where he had come from less than an hour earlier, still the prisoner of the black riders. The road was slippery and muddy as the horses came upon it. The rain had become steadier. Legolas watched as the black horse halted, looking around expectantly and he bowed his head. "Easy girl, I doubt your master's coming." Legolas slid to the ground, his green shod feet resting lightly on top of the deep mud. "Aluteir, stay here," his command was gentle as he moved to stand in the middle of the road. Legolas closed his eyes, imagining the sounds he had heard earlier, trying to figure out what direction the sword fight had been in. He opened his eyes and walked off into the woods, the opposite way from where he had just come. About ten meters off the path, he found what he was looking for.  
  
Lying in the mud was a cloaked, and most likely dead figure. Legolas sighed in obvious mourning, for this person had undoubtedly saved his life. The scene was grim. There were arrows scattered about, dirty and disappearing into the mud. A great sword, of some elvish make lay in the mud near the figure, covered in mud and blood. The bow on the person's back was broken under him. Legolas knelt by the person, assuming him to be an elf. The cloak was something the elves of Rivendell would have made, gray in the darkening light. It was travel worn and seemingly loved. Legolas gently lifted the hood from his rescuer's facce and was shocked to find noelf, but a man.  
  
He had a very strong face, a distinguished jaw line, high cheekbones, and a noble nose. His eyes were shut tightly, his chin was rough with two days worth of stubble, and his face was ashen gray, stark contrast to his dark brown hair that almost seemed black. Legolas could not help but look again, certain he knew this man. Still, no name came to mind. Legolas reached out and touched the man's throat, searching for a pulse. He was surprised to find one, soft and thready, but a pulse none the less.  
  
"So he lives." Legolas muttered, searching for his injuries, which were nothard to find. The gash on the man's back was deep and long, slicing in a diagonal line from his left shoulder to his lower back. It was bleeding heavily. Legolas rolled him more onto his side to see what damage had been done. There were several minor cuts that showed through his cloak and dark tunic on the arms. It was the man's chest that caused Legolas to wonder how he was still alive. There was a garish looking sword cut across his ribs. It had clearly broken a few of the ribs, explaining why Legolas had not detected a regular breathing pattern.  
  
"He lives.but for how long? Well, dark stranger, I owe you my life and for that reason and for the fact that I am curious to know who you are, and why you would risk the wrath of Sauron's Nazgul, I will do my best to save you. I am no healer, though we are a little over a day's ride from Rivendell if I know my forest. You may well die before I get you there, for who knows if you received poison from the tips of the dark rider's swords, but if it is my choice, I will not let you pass into their realm. I do promise you that if you survive the trip to Rivendell, you might well live, so I suggest you keep stout of heart."  
  
Legolas said these words even as he worked, removing his own brown cloak. He removed the stranger's cloak and discarded it, then he tore his own cloak into strips, binding them around his chest and back as best he could. Once he had done all that he could, he picked up the man with an ease that only an elf could manage, and carried him back to the road, where both horses waited obediently.  
  
The black mare whinnied excitedly at the sight of her master, but she also seemed to sense that he was not that same as when he had bid her leave. Legolas draped the man over her back and covered him with the blanket. "Easy girl, for you master needs you to be gentle." Legolas turned to Aluteir and mounted, catching the mare's reins in his hand. "Come on now, speed is of the essence. Pray that I have indeed recognized these woods." Legolas urged the horses on into the rain.  
  
Hours later, Legolas was beginning to feel his exhaustion and the sky was growing dark, beating out the cloud cover. It had stopped raining, much to his relief, but he knew that he would have to stop and rest. He could have kept going if he had eaten more recently or if he hadn't been so cruelly bound for so long. Finally he led the horses off the road and found an area one might even call a clearing. He tied up the horses and carefully lifted the dark stranger to the ground, checking to see if he was still alive, half expecting him not to be. Legolas was pleased to find that he still had a pulse. He re-wrapped the man in the blanket and placed him under a tree.  
  
"Now, food." Legolas muttered, spotting the leather pack still secured to the black mare. He decided to have a look, surely the traveler would carry some food. Inside the pack he found a dagger wrapped in black silk, an extra cloak that seemed to have never been worn, a book written in an elvish tongue that he vaguely remembered from his childhood, and food. Lembas to be exact. Legolas raised an eyebrow. This man was indeed a mystery. He wore elvish clothing, carried a sword and a bow wrought by elves, and rode an elven horse that answered to elvish, yet he was not an elf.  
  
Legolas sighed, sitting down to eat the lembas. He was surprised to find that it was lembas from his home, Mirkwood! The man must have been there, but for what reason and how, Legolas could not have guessed at. After he had eaten, he searched for bits of dry wood, buried under the leaves, and he started a fire. Once the fire burned hot, he examined the man again, using the rest of his cloak to re-bandage the man's wounds, which were uglier thanhe thought in the firelight. He then wrapped the man in the cloak he had found in the leather pack and started to dry the blanket by the fire. He noticed that the blanket was made of the finest thread, obviously woven by a master at the loom. It had been made with great care, for the use of traveling, for it dried quickly, as if it was laced with magic. Legolas sighed, looking away from the man and staring into the fire, lost in thought.  
  
"Why, my friend, would you risk any sort of altercation with the Nazgul? Do you have a death wish for Sauron to notice? Why attempt to save me if you had no idea who I was? How did you fight the nine by yourself for that long and still live? Surely they must have believed you were dead. So you must be lucky. But who are you? Where were you going? Whom do you serve?" Legolas asked the questions absently, his eyes locked on the tongues of red and orange flames.  
  
"Many questions my dear prince, but I too have one for you. Why did you chose to save me?" Legolas jumped, never having been caught so off guard before, and turned to face the source of the rough, weak voice. The man had obviously awoken and Legolas found himself looking at the man, with strange, yet beautiful gray eyes boring into him as if he was transparent. "And then perhaps," the man said, interrupted when he coughed, blood coming to his pale lips, "I can answer your questions." 


	3. You Are Nothing More Than a Riddle

Authors Note: Once again, thank you for all of the feedback, I am excited to keep writing. I just wanted to let ya'll know that there will be no slash in this story. I am strictly staying far away from that, and hopefully you will see why in this chapter! I have a ton of ideas for this story and plan to keep going as much as possible.I'd love to keep hearing from all of you.so tell me what you think! Thanks! ~Gen  
  
Aragorn had awoken to a burning in his chest. His head pounded unmercifully and as he opened his eyes, he thought he was going to be sick. The world spun around him and everything was a black haze. His whole body felt as if it was broken. He tried to move, but was stopped by a cruel stab of pure pain up and down the muscles in his back. Deciding that moving was not such a good idea, he focussed his thoughts on his beloved, for she was far away, where he wished he was, away from the pain and in her loving arms.  
  
Slowly, his vision stopped spinning and cleared. He was then able to discern where he was. Still someplace in the woods, he noted, a fire burned in front of him and a lone figure stood, his back to Aragorn, staring at the fire intently. Aragorn was sure he recognized him, besides the fact that he assumed this was the elf he had cut loose from those strange black riders. What happened? Aragorn tried to remember. There was the sword fight.he'd been very tired and let his guard down. The sword striking him.no wonder he felt as if he couldn't breath. I fell. I know I fell. Then what happened? One of them hit me again.and then I don't remember anything. Apparently I'm not dead. Aragorn reflected silently, realizing he was probably very lucky. His vision was still hazy and his body screamed for help, but for some reason, he was conscious.  
  
Aragorn was stirred out of his reverie by the soft mumbling of the elf that stood by the fire. Once he spoke, Aragorn knew exactly who he was. This was Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of Mirkwood. Aragorn had met him on several occasions, though they had never been introduced. Aragorn had always been with a group of Rangers, passing through Mirkwood or carrying messages to Legolas' father. Legolas was considered handsome for an elf, slender from head to foot with a fair face and long golden hair. Aragorn hardly noticed his appearance, but he had heard told of how the Prince used a bow and how good he was at that skill.  
  
"Why, my friend, would you risk any sort of altercation with the Nazgul? Do you have a death wish for Sauron to notice? Why attempt to save me if you had no idea who I was? How did you fight the nine by yourself for that long and still live? Surely they must have believed you were dead. So you must be lucky. But who are you? Where were you going? Whom do you serve?" The elf said these words quietly and Aragorn was amused, even through his pain.  
  
"Many questions my dear prince, but I too have one for you. Why did you chose to save me?" Aragorn was pleased when the elf jumped, startled, for Aragorn knew how difficult it was to startle an elf, he had tried to do it all through his youth, often driving Elladan and Elrohir to nearly kill him. "And then perhaps," Aragorn continued as he stared at the elf, before being interrupted by a cough, which caused him to taste the metallic taste of blood in his mouth, "I can answer your questions."  
  
By this time, Legolas' eyes were wide. "Strange that you seem to know who I am, yet I have no recollection of you. I saved you because you, sir, saved me. Does that answer your question?" Legolas' voice was intense, as if Aragorn made him nervous, though Aragorn doubted that the elf was nervous at all. More likely inexplicably confused.  
  
"Yes, I suppose it does. Perhaps you would tell me what a 'Nazgul' is, and I can then answer your first question," Aragorn responded, alarmed at how weak his own voice sounded. "And no, I don't have a death wish. I have much to live for."  
  
"Perhaps you should rest, you are hurt very badly. I am not sure why you are alive, let alone talking to me."  
  
"No.the talking distracts me from the.pain," Aragorn's reply was stubborn. I will not yield.  
  
"As you wish. Fist however, you must tell me who you are, because I feel I am at a loss."  
  
"If I could bow, I would. I am a Ranger of the North and am known by many names. You may call me Strider, and I am at your service, or I would be if I could stand."  
  
"Will you not tell me your true name, Strider? For I am sure I have seen you before."  
  
"My prince, I have traveled through Mirkwood many a time, doing many a job for your father. I have seen you as you have seen me. We have never been introduced." Except as children, well, I was but a child. Surely you would not remember that Legolas Greenleaf. I was enamored with your bow.  
  
"I see you will not be more forth coming. I am indebted to you, Strider. Thank you for saving my life."  
  
"And thank you for saving mine."  
  
"Do not thank me yet, you are severely wounded. I am not sure you will recover. I am making all haste to Rivendell, we should be there sometime tomorrow, but I was forced to stop and rest."  
  
Aragorn nodded absently, looking extremely tired. "Tell me of the Nazgul." The pain was still raking through his body and his speech slurred, causing him to slip into his own tongue. Legolas' eyes grew huge again as he realized that he had just had the entire conversation with Strider in elvish, not in the man's language.  
  
"You speak Elvish!"  
  
"I do."  
  
"And you carry an elven sword, ride an elvish horse, and shoot an elven bow. You even wear a cloak made by the elves of Rivendell. Who are you and why do you act so much like what you are not?"  
  
"Don't be alarmed, you have nothing to fear from me," Aragorn's voice had grown even unsteadier than before. The pain was overwhelming and his vision was growing weary once again. "Legolas.I.I think I've been poisoned. I need.you know what kingsfoil is? I need some. You will have to boil it and wash my wounds. I am sorry if this is an inconvenience. When you reach Rivendell.." His voice was slurring again as he fought for consciousness.  
  
"Yes? Strider, when we reach there."  
  
"A message. I have a message. Tell Father.tell Elrond that Evaria has it." Aragorn fought with himself to stay awake, but the pain was far too overwhelming. Finally he closed his eyes, oblivious to the confusion on the elf's youthful face.  
  
"A message? Father? Did you just call Elrond father? Who is Evaria?" But the man had slipped back into unconsciousness. "A riddle. You are nothing more than a riddle." 


	4. The Meddling Elf

Authors Note: Here's the next installation. Hope you enjoy!  
  
Legolas sighed in frustration and hurried over to Strider's still form, hoping that he had not just uttered his dying words. Much to Legolas' relief, he found there was still a pulse and that Strider had merely slipped back into unconsciousness, probably where he was most comfortable. Legolas straightened up, and placed one hand on his hip, looking around.  
  
"You, strange Ranger, are more infuriating than I could have believed. I don't appreciate that you know more than I. Somehow you seem to know you are poisoned and now I must find kingsfoil. Please, do not wander off while I am gone," Legolas laughed at himself. "I'm talking to an unconscious man."  
  
Legolas began his search in the woods, his keen elf eyes taking in almost everything even in the darkness. Legolas was filled with many thoughts as he searched, his frustration having reached new heights. Never had he met someone so complicated. Strider brought many questions to his mind, the kingsfoil just added to it. After all, kingsfoil was an elven remedy to ease pain and fight poison and few humans knew of it. There was the fact that Strider was a Ranger, which could explain this knowledge. Even in the Elven kingdoms, the Rangers were very well respected. They did their best to keep peace and protect those who did not understand the truth from Sauron's dark hand.  
  
They aided the dwarves, elves, and even some of the few Wizards who roamed Middle Earth. From what Strider had said, he had traveled in Mirkwood many a time. Legolas wished now that he had paid more attention to them when they had passed through, but he had often been unconcerned because they only arrived on business for his father or with messages from abroad. Still, Strider did not seem to be a typical Ranger.  
  
"He has much to hide," Legolas said aloud. "Ah, kingsfoil." The elf plucked the plant and hurried back to the fire where he crushed the leaves and boiled them. When the liquid had cooled, he moved to Strider's side and took off the cloak that was already blood stained. He pulled off the makeshift bandages and threw them into the fire, lest they attract any wargs with the smell of blood. He peeled off Aragorn's shirt to reveal the ugly wounds. As gently as possible, he began to bathe the wounds, wincing every time the strong young man cried out even through his unconscious haze. Legolas stayed strong, refusing to give in to any thoughts that would be damaging to the poor man's health. If Strider had indeed been poisoned, he could easily slip into the realm of the Nazgul, he would be a wraith, neither dead nor alive. Legolas would not let that happen. When he had finished, he tore up Aragorn's shirt and used that as bandages, wrapping the man back in his cloak and laying the blanket back over his body. His chest had been clammy and cold, and Legolas feared it was the precursor to a fever.  
  
"Well Strider, you have many secrets I wish to know. Who is Evaria? If I am to tell Lord Elrond where this message is you speak of and I myself do not know, how well will that go over? After all you said you had the message, so who is Evaria?" Just as he asked the question, Strider's horse whinnied and moved most restlessly. Legolas smiled. "Ahh, so you are Evaria." He walked over to her and she seemed pleased. "You have the message? But where?" Legolas searched her again, but found nothing. "Once again, I don't understand, but I believe that you do have the message. Now pray tell Evaria, do you know why your master called Lord Elrond father? Surely that is far from possible. Strider is but a man and though he carries himself like an elf, he is not one. So why then would he call Elrond father?" Another mystery. It seemed that all Legolas was getting was more questions and no answers. "I wish my father were here, he would explain."  
  
Legolas sat back by the fire, leaning on a tree opposite to where Strider sat slumped, his head resting on his chest. Ahh, how he missed Mirkwood. Strange happenings had brought him to be where he was now, in a wood that was only somewhat familiar, fighting to get to Rivendell before a mysterious Ranger died of wounds inflicted by Sauron's worst minions. A strange tale. Legolas thought back to how it had started, and his unfortunate luck. His father had asked Legolas and several other archers to keep special watch, or he felt darkness stirring. There had been several reports of wargs attacking in broad daylight. They had been emboldened by something and the King wanted to know what. It was around that time that a group of four Rangers had arrived, unusual because the Rangers usually traveled alone or only in groups of two.  
  
Legolas had paid little attention and had set out into the woods of Mirkwood, going to the very edge of the land to find what caused the uneasiness of his father. He had waited there for days, listening to the sounds of nature and searching for the trouble.  
  
On his third day, Legolas had stumbled across what his father feared. The Nazgul were on the borders of Mirkwood and they seemed to be searching for something, but Legolas could not tell what. The dark riders, faceless and formless, covered in intimidating black cloaks seemed to be in a hurry, for their horses looked tired and their feet bled. Legolas was not sure what he should do, report back to the King or stay and discover what these evilcreatures were doing. His final decision was to remain where he was to decide what evil the Nazgul were up to. This was his undoing.  
  
Early the next morning, one of the marauding riders had stumbled across Legolas, who had been hiding in the brush. It was almost a freak occurrence, for the Nazgul had no idea he had been there. Legolas had put up quite a fight, mostly through the use of whistles and calls to his fellow elves to warn them of danger. The Nazgul probably would have killed him, but they realized he would be a wonderful subject for Sauron to have. After all, the elves had changed and he was sure to have information that Sauron would surely drag out of him in the pits of Mordor. They had finally subdued the thrashing elf when one had brought the hilt of his sword down on the meddling elf's head. Legolas could clearly remember trying to fight the blackness, knowing he was in great danger, but he could not, and he slipped into oblivion.  
  
Legolas had awoken hours later to find himself blindfolded and trussed, tossed on the back of his very own horse. They were riding hard. Legolas had been optimistic at first, glad that he was alive, but his imagination soon told him he needed to escape. However that did not seem likely because of his predicament, not to mention he had no idea for how long they had been riding or where they were riding to. He was mostly glad that they had left Mirkwood and hopefully his father and brothers were now safe. Little did he know that he truly had saved his family and friends much trouble for the riders became fearful of discovery and had fled instead of finishing earlier plans. The other elf scouts came upon the scene of the scuffle and had to report back to King Thranduil that his son was missing.  
  
The King was grieved and regretted having already sent Aragorn off with his message of dark things stirring in the open. Aragorn would have known what to do, or at least been able to track whomever had stolen his son. He could not have known that fate had meant for their paths to cross or that his son would survive to see him again. Instead, he had sent his best elves after the riders, hoping only for success and to see his son again.  
  
Legolas stirred from his thoughts and stared at the sky. Strange how he was here now, certainly not where he had expected. He was glad that the next day they would reach Rivendell and there many questions would be answered. He would feel better when he knew more about the strange Ranger. It would greatly ease his mind. Sighing once more, Legolas began a watch. He would not sleep tonight, not that he needed to. Instead he would watch, not only for intruders, but the sky and the moon, the trees and the leaves, and he would also watch for the slight fall and rise of the Ranger's chest. Just to make it to morning would be relief enough for Legolas. 


	5. I Grieve to Think You May Have Arrived t...

Authors Note: Here is the next chapter. I am trying to write about one chapter a day and post and I think I'll keep that up as long as I keep getting feedback that ya'll want me to ( Just a note about this chapter, a lot of questions will be unraveled here for Legolas and the story progresses. Please, no flames about how I use Arwen. I read the books when I was in 5th grade and now am in college, so have little memory. I have re-read both the Fellowship and the Two Towers, and if you all know, there is little about Arwen's personality in those books, so as I have not re-read the Return of the King yet, I am basing Arwen's character strictly on movieverse and my own ideas of what she would be like. I hope you enjoy!  
  
Legolas was eager to set out when light began to creep into the forest. Strider had survived the night and Legolas was beginning to hope he would survive to Rivendell. He gently placed the Ranger on Evaria's back, noting that Strider was burning up. The fever had set in. Mounting Altueir, Legolas once again took up Evaria's lead rope and they set off. He rode as fast as he felt was safe for Strider. Hours passed and soon it was late day, but Legolas was unconcerned, Rivendell was near. He was practically with its borders if what he thought of the trees was correct. By now he might have passed into the enchanted woods guarded by the elves.  
  
"Halt intruder!" A light but serious voice called in elvish. Legolas, understanding ht ways of the elves, knew that he was probably surrounded, with many arrows pointed straight at him. He halted both horses and lifted his hand in a peaceful gesture.  
  
"I come peacefully! My name is Legolas, son of Thranduil. I come from Mirkwood and I bear a wounded Ranger called Strider. I believe he was on his way here with a…" Legolas never finished his speech, for almost a dozen elves seem to melt out from the woods, a few of them still looking warily at him, all with bows drawn and arrows notched. However, there was one elf that paid Legolas little heed, but rushed to Evaria and her still and fallen rider.  
  
"Estel! Estel!" Legolas was surprised to hear the feminine voice – a she-elf – and not just any she-elf, but Arwen, daughter of Lord Elrond. Arwen had been one of Legolas' childhood friends and he would have known her voice anywhere. When she reached Evaria, she threw back her hood, revealing a perfect porcelain complexion, large blue eyes, and long dark hair. Legolas was shocked to see how beautiful she had become. It had been many long years since he had last seen her, before she had left Imladris for Lorien to stay with Galadriel. Legolas felt at a loss again. Estel? She cried for hope? And of what concern was Strider to her? He turned back to the other elves and spotted another friendly face, Glorfindel.  
  
"Legolas! Are you all right? What brings you here? 'Tis all right, he is a friend," the older and taller blond elf told the rest of his companions.  
  
"It is a very long story, but that Ranger must see Elrond very soon, for he fought and has been wounded by the Nazgul."  
  
"Nazgul?" It was a soft hiss and echo that ran through the company of elves. This was ill news. They turned their attention to Strider. Arwen seemed to be fighting back tears.  
  
"Come! He must get to my father quickly, for he is on the verge of passing over!" her voice was urgent and she mounted Evaria behind where Aragorn was laid. With the help of Glorfindel and another elf, they sat him upright, leaning over Evaria's head. Legolas watched in wonder as Evaria seemed to be calmed by Arwen's presence, as if Arwen had ridden her before. He was still watching even as Arwen wrapped Strider tightly in her arms, grasping the reigns in one hand. "Noro lim! Noro lim Evaria!" Evaria jerked under them and broke into a gallop, towards the gates of Rivendell. Legolas reigned in Altueir, watching her go. She cares for him…she cares for this mortal? But how would she know him? No, you are wrong Legolas. Legolas shook his head as if to send the thought away. There was no hint of jealously, for there never could have been anything between himself and Arwen, but he was definitely more confused, as an elf should never have been.  
  
"Go on Legolas, we will catch up with you," Glorfindel urged. Legolas turned to look at him, nodding. Giving Altueir a soft nudge, he set out after Arwen, who had reached the gates and was calling for her father. Legolas arrived just in time to help carry Strider up into Lord Elrond's personal chambers, Arwen right behind him, her face pained and worried. Lord Elrond appeared immediately, a tall, dark haired elf of an age no one dared speak, for he had fought during the war of the ring and he had young then. Legolas watched carefully to gauge Elrond's reaction to finding Strider lying bloody on his bed.  
  
The reaction was unexpected, though Legolas had no previous thought as to what to expect. Elrond's face grew ashen at the sight of Strider.  
  
"No…of all the curses, no. Please let this not be so. Estel? My son, what has happened?" Elrond was at the young man's side in seconds, taking in the wounds with his eyes. "What happened?" He turned to find an answer and Legolas had never seen the great elf so confused.  
  
"He fought the nine riders, Lord Elrond. He told me he thought he had been poisoned…" Legolas offered quietly.  
  
"The Nazgul…it was not his time. Go, leave us. I will do what I can for him." Elrond motioned to all in the room and several of the other elves began to leave, but Arwen stayed stubbornly rooted on the other side of the bed. "Arwen, my daughter, you must leave."  
  
"Let me stay and help father. He will respond to me."  
  
"Arwen, there is nothing you can do. Legolas, please…" he motioned to Arwen with these words and Legolas regretted that he would have to force Arwen to leave. She glared at him in challenge, but put up no physical fight when he placed his had firmly on her shoulder and led her from the room.  
  
"Walk with me Arwen, I have many questions."  
  
"My father will also have many questions for you too. It is good to see you my friend, but I wish it were for other reasons," Arwen's voice was heavy with an effort to control her feelings.  
  
"Come, do not be sad. Tell me who this Strider is. He would not tell me his real name, yet I arrive here and you call him Estel, hope, and Elrond calls him son, as he called Elrond father in the woods. I am at a loss…"  
  
"Surely you remember Legolas…"  
  
"I do not."  
  
"Estel…Estel is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You must remember that my father raised him here after Arathorn was killed. He is the Heir of Isildur and had to be protected. He grew up here as a foster elf. Now he is a Ranger of the North, taking over the responsibilities his father once had. He leads the Rangers and goes mostly by Strider, what the townspeople call him."  
  
"Ahh! Estel! The hope of men! Now I understand many of the riddles…why he speaks elvish, carries such elvish gear…I should have realized. I met him when he was only a small child! But what I don't understand is why you weep so. I know you were in Lorien when he was here as a child."  
  
"Estel…is very dear to me," Arwen said quietly, turning from Legolas. "What happened?" Legolas watched as she walked a few steps from him, her back to him. Why would she not speak?  
  
"It is quite a long story, one I will be telling many a time. For the time being, we will leave it at the fact that I was captured by the nine, for what purpose I shudder to think about. During their act of fleeing they must have stumbled across Stri…Aragorn, though this is part of the mystery I do not know. For some reason they fought and he released my horse with an well-aimed arrow. The next thing I knew was that the riders had left and all was quiet. I found Aragorn wounded and did my best to get him here as quickly as I could."  
  
"I grieve to think you may have arrived to late."  
  
"Arwen…you care for him…you care for this mortal?"  
  
"Legolas…" she turned to face him, tears rolling down her fair skin. "We have been friends for a long time. I trust you…you must never say a word… I do not care for Aragorn. I love him. I have also pledged myself to him and one day I will give him this," her hand flew to her throat as she spoke, her hand resting on the Evenstar necklace she had worn since her childhood, the representation of what she was, the Evenstar of her people.  
  
"But you cannot! You would give up your immortality!"  
  
"I will give up my immortality because I would rather live one lifetime with him than a thousand knowing I had lost him forever. Forgive me," with these last words, she turned and fled into her gardens, a place she had held dear all of her life. Legolas watched her go. Things were clearer now as to Strider's true identity, but now Legolas was left to ponder why this man would take from the elves what was one of their most treasured possessions. 


	6. I Did Not Name You Estel, the Hope of Ma...

Author's Note: Here is the next chapter, hehe. There is a funny little bit in here of a secret shared by Elladan, Elrohir, and Aragorn when Aragorn was little, I hope you enjoy it! Tell me what you think. Should I continue?  
  
At first, Aragorn believed that his body was far too tired to even provide him with enough energy to even open his eyes. However, the more he thought about it, he realized that the task was not impossible. Slowly, with great care, he forced his tired and heavy lids open. Elrond was leaning over him, busy with something, undoubtedly one of Aragorn's wounds. He did not seem to notice that Aragorn was awake. Aragorn was pleased to find that his body felt entirely numb. There was no pain to speak of, just a far off memory of something terrible. Aragorn was alert enough to realized Elrond must have given hi something to ease the pain. He longed to speak and ask Elrond what his condition was. Would he survive? What had happened to Legolas? He owed the Prince his life thus far. And had he imagined Arwen's voice? Even if none of these questions could be answered, he had to tell Elrond of his message. He was desperate for Elrond to realize he was awake, but his voice did not work.  
  
Willing his body to obey him, he managed to lift his hand and touched his foster-father on the arm. Elrond turned, startled.  
  
"Estel! Do not try to speak. Relax. Do not try to move, you will only hurt yourself. My son, you are hurt very badly and you must rest. I am doing what I can for you." Elrond moved to pull away, but Aragorn refused to let go of his sleeve, using all the energy he had.  
  
No Father. I have a message. Please pay attention.  
  
Elrond turned back to face Aragorn. "Aragorn, let go." With great pain, Aragorn shook his head with a firm no. "What is it Estel? Of course! You were on our way here with a purpose…" Elrond seemed to be thinking. "Do you have a message for me? No, do not try to answer, I can see it in your eyes. Surely you are not carrying it on you?" Elrond searched Aragorn's face for a few moments, trying to think back to what his foster-son would have done during the times he lived happily as a boy in Rivendell. This was not the first time Aragorn had borne messages here and all Elrond had to do was remember how he had hidden the messages. "Of course! Evaria has it! I understand Estel and I promise you that I will look for it as soon as I am sure that you…never mind. Sleep. You need rest, for you will need all of your strength to fight this poison in your body."  
  
Satisfied that he had completed his duty, Aragorn let go of Elrond's sleeve, realizing for the first time how much effort that small act had taken. He tried to smile at Elrond, to tell him he would fight. After all, he was an heir to the throne of Gondor and he had to survive. Finally he gave up the fight to stay awake and closed his eyes again. He felt Elrond's cool hand touch his cheek, but then he knew no more.  
  
Elrond turned from Estel, grateful that his torn body had relaxed and the young man slept again. He turned back to his work, an almost futile attempt to cleanse Aragorn's body of the poison. The actual flesh wounds were just as deadly. Elrond had used the finest elven thread to stitch the wound on Aragorn's back. Elrond had laced it with powders and herbs, praying they would fight the infection and poison. The wound on Aragorn's chest was more grievous. The sword had cut all the way to the bone of Aragorn' ribs, breaking three ribs in the process. These broken bones placed pressure on the so far unharmed lungs, but the pressure caused Aragorn's breathing to be labored. Elrond was relieved that an infection had not set in thus far and Aragorn's fever had broken early.  
  
"Estel, you must live, for I did not name you Estel, the hope of man, for nothing. You will be High King of Gondor. I know you have chosen exile for the time being. You fear your heritage, but it will be this way. It is not yet the time for you to face the darkness, but that time will come, and I am confidant that when you are faced with your destiny, you will not fail yourself, nor any of those who should care whether you do or not." Elrond paused, looking back down at his foster-son. "I have done all I can for you now Estel. Do not die. You have much to liver for and your destiny calls. Do not…" Elrond hesitated before continuing," Do not forget my daughter and what I promised you. Sleep well, Aragorn son of Arathorn. I dare not to hope, but can only suspect that the blood that runs through your veins is strong enough to fight this evil." With that final encouragement, Elrond pulled a covering over Aragorn's bandaged and bare chest. He brushed Aragorn's dark hair away form his closed eyes and left the room, hoping all Aragorn need was time.  
  
As Elrond had spoken his words of wisdom, a battle raged within Aragorn's mind and body. His body was facing a trauma it had never experienced before. It rebelled against the pain and wounds, crying out about the seeping poison. To be so broken was unacceptable. In his mind, the battle was much the same, but it was if Aragorn was wandering lost in a dream. Everything was dark and hazy, but Aragorn was aware that he seemed to be standing in some place his mind had conjured up. He reached down to touch his chest where the gaping wound had been, but there was nothing now.  
  
"So I must fight now," he mumbled to himself.  
  
"No Aragorn, you need not fight, but you must survive. You must find a way out of this terrible place," the voice belonged to Arwen, thought he could not see her.  
  
"Arwen?"  
  
"Shh. I am not your beloved, Estel. Just as you are called hope, for now I am to be your hope. I know you wish to return to her, or you never would have imagined her voice as mine."  
  
"Who are you then? A demon sent to distract and destroy me? For I know I am not dead yet."  
  
"I told you, I am your hope. You must return to all of them and the only way you know how is to travel through something tangible in your mind. If you want to be called Elessar someday, you must leave this place."  
  
"And if I am not to be called Elessar?"  
  
"You are. If you want to live, search for the White City, for you belong there Aragorn."  
  
"The White City? Minas Tirith?" Aragorn questioned, but there was no answer, apparently even his imagination had left him. "Well, I have no wish to stay here, so I will find the White City." Even though darkness still surrounded him, the gloom seemed to lift and his mind fabricated the terrain of Middle Earth for the journey he was about to take part in.  
  
Outside of Aragorn's journey within his mind, the world moved. Hours passed, night came, and the sun rose again. Elrond rarely left his son's side, though he did take some time to search for the message Aragorn had been so concerned about. As he was searching the belongings that Evaria had carried for Aragorn, his twin sons arrived. Elladan and Elrohir had been hunting, but had returned immediately when Glorfindel had brought news to them of Aragorn's peril. Elrond quickly explained Estel's condition to them and also shared about the message. Elrohir had managed to let out a soft laugh and went straight to face Evaria. Elrond watched in wonder as Elrohir coaxed Evaria to open her mouth, out of which he pulled a tooled silver capsule, decorated in elvish words. Inside the capsule was a rolled message addressed to Elrond.  
  
"How else do you think Estel knew where to meet us in the woods when he sneaked out while he was supposed to be taking care of the horses?" Without another word, Elrohir turned and he and Elladan went out, presumably to go and see their hurt brother. Elrond watched them leave, his mouth open just a little. Finally, he shook his head and returned to Aragorn's side. The hours turned into a few days and Aragorn did not do as much as stir or awake, but Elrond was relieved that no infection developed.  
  
Arwen sat next to him faithfully, not leaving his side, even to eat and Elrond became concerned for her health, but he could not convince her to leave. Elladan, Elrohir, Glorfindel, and even Legolas hovered outside of the chamber doors, hoping for even the smallest change. In his mind, Aragorn knew they were there and he was tired of his journey, determined that over the next rise, he would see the white spires and be safe. He increased his pace, but froze in mid-step, for behind him, he heard a cold scream. He turned, only to find himself facing the nine Nazgul, and they were waiting for his death. 


	7. Destined to be Friends

Authors Note: I regret to inform you that I will not be posting tomorrow because I won't have the time to write another installment. Look for it on Monday though. I just wanted to say thanks for all the great reviews, please keep telling me what you like. I am also open to suggestions, if anyone has any. Just a note about this chapter, please remember that I am not writing slash, and though Legolas is interested (as in intrigued in a purely innocent manner) in this "man", Aragorn, please realize that "man" simply doesn't mean male, but the actual race of Man. Hope you enjoy!  
  
PS…I read that story WaterPrincess, thanks for suggesting it to me!  
  
  
  
Legolas had watched Arwen flee, concerned for her and confused at her choice. How could she have fallen in love with Aragorn? He did not know the Ranger, nor did he think it impossible for her to fall in love, it just seemed as if it should be forbidden. After all, how would the elves suffer the loss of their Evenstar to die of a mortal death? Legolas could not answer that question. He wandered back towards the great house that Elrond resided in. Usually Rivendell was a place of rest and calmness for him, but now Legolas felt nothing but apprehension. If Aragorn was truly the hope of men, he must live or all of free Middle Earth would suffer. Legolas had been well taught when it came to the prophesies and stories told by the ancient and wise elves. He supposed they did not lie.  
  
Legolas was very concerned, but also knew that from this moment, it was out of his hands. Only Elrond could save Aragorn. In fact, for all it mattered, Legolas could return home. Surely his father was more than worried. The other elf scouts should have come across the scene of his abduction and would have reported back. It was many days journey to return to Mirkwood and it was something he felt he should do, but even as he considered it, he could not bring himself to leave. Something about Strider urged him to stay. He wanted to know the outcome of the Ranger's ill health. He wanted to talk with Aragorn and find out why he had engaged the riders. Most of all he wanted to know the man. He had never been so intrigued by a man in all of his life. After all, men were considered an almost inferior race, if not in stature, at least in the way they handled life. They were not considered overly wise, but rather hasty and greedy with very little regard for others. They were prideful and stubborn, and though they had fought beside elves in battle and had died just as valiantly, they were still considered less than equal. However, Legolas had long suspected this of being untrue. Surely the men had their faults, but they were a totally different species and the elves had much to learn from them.  
  
Legolas wished to learn from Aragorn. Never had any elf done as the Rangers had. Of all the men, Rangers were considered the most distinguished among the elves, strange, for among the other men, Rangers were considered outsiders and strangers. The Rangers possessed many skills and traits that the elves did. Aragorn surely did, more than any of the others, for he had been raised as an elf. It was almost as if Aragorn were an elf, in all but his appearance.  
  
"Something draws me to him. I wonder that we will not yet share other adventures together. I believe that the future holds something for us, as companions and maybe even friends," Legolas said aloud, to no one in particular.  
  
"It could be very true my friend." Legolas turned to find which out which elf had taken the effort to approach him so that he did not hear. Elladan stood not to far behind him, holding a white flower.  
  
"Elladan, I did not know you were here."  
  
"Elrohir and I have just returned after receiving the news from Glorfindel. I came to thank you for saving my brother."  
  
"Well, I take no credit. He in fact saved me and therefore may lose his life. For that I am sorry."  
  
"He is strong and the destiny of our existence may rest somewhere in his future, so I will not give up on him yet. If you had known him as I have known him, you would know that for sure."  
  
"For some reason I would like to get to know him. After all, what kind of man fights the Nazgul and survives? What kind of man has such great skills as an elf? What kind of man could steal away the Evenstar's heart?" Legolas watched Elladan stiffen at the last remark.  
  
"Say not those words to Lord Elrond, for Arwen is his most precious reminder of our mother. It pains him to know that two of the creatures he loves most will be lost to him forever."  
  
"So she has already given herself to him? Elrond has agreed?"  
  
"I know that my sister loves Estel and that she has told him so and that he returns how she feels. However, my father had forbidden their marriage until a time comes that Estel is the King of Gondor, returned to the throne that seated his forefathers. I fear that before that Arwen will forsake her immortal life though, and promise herself to Estel no matter what," Elladan spoke the words in certainty and Legolas was taken aback. It was not like Arwen to disobey her father.  
  
"Then Aragorn is more important in the scheme of things than I could ever have imagined."  
  
"Legolas, I think you and Estel are destined to be friends," Elladan said slowly, changing the subject.  
  
"Friends I do now know about, but I would like to watch him, especially at sword-play."  
  
"He is impressive. Elrohir and I taught him the art of the sword, but I clearly remember the day when he surpassed both our skills. As you know, it is not easy to take on two elves with only the sword. However, he has many other talents beside the sword, the bow being one. The reason he was so eager to learn was because of you."  
  
"Because of me? I do not understand."  
  
"There were two occasions on which we traveled to Mirkwood. Elrohir and I always accompanied our father and Elrond could not leave Estel behind, short of tying him up and leaving him locked in his room, for as a boy, Estel was eager to know everything there was to know about the world. I think it was then that I realized how great a Ranger he might make. None the less, he traveled with us to your fair forest. You may not remember those times, but even as a boy, he had heard stories of your skill with the bow and longed to meet you. Elrond restrained him from acting rashly, but it was merely excitement, and you know how hard it is for our people to remember what it is like to actually be a child. He watched you from afar and asked many questions, but you could not answer them, for you stood with your men, and Estel stayed at Elrond's side, a small boy, covered in a cloak, so that none but your father, and perhaps those closest to him, knew that the small elf child was no elf at all, but the Heir of Isildur."  
  
Legolas listened with interest. He did indeed remember those days. "I remember your visits. Who could not? To have Lord Elrond in our forest could not have gone unnoticed, and now that you mention it, I do remember the small child at Elrond's side. I gave no thought to it at the time, save to wonder why Elrond would bring an elf child with him, for there was no explanation. My father had informed me later of the real truth, but it had slipped from my mind. Had I known, I surely would have talked with him."  
  
"Fate has much in store. I am both excited and afraid of the adventures I feel you will experience with Estel. Never forget he is the Heir of Isildur, no matter how he makes you feel. For he is good at reminding you that he is a mere human and he would take risks, such as fighting the Nazgul, that he should not. I believe that the day will come that this Heir of Isildur, Estel, will be the one to right the wrong of Isildur. Those are dark thought in and of themselves, but I believe that he will triumph."  
  
"But he has chosen exile!"  
  
"Exile may end at any time. He will need all the skills he has acquired as a Ranger to do what he must do. There is a reason for everything he does, whether he knows it or not. You must also never forget that he loves my sister truly, and that will rule him. But come, I long to know if there is any change in his condition," with those last words, Elladan turned back towards Elrond's house. Legolas followed, filled with wonder at the older elf's words. He too felt that he and Aragorn would meet again in the future, but these were strange tidings. Elladan believed beyond a shadow of a doubt that evil would arise again, within Aragorn's lifetime, and the Ranger would be called upon to destroy the great ring of power. It seemed even more strange, for the ring had been lost when it had betrayed Isildur to his death and never heard of again, except in the stories and prophecies. Legolas felt that Elladan might be right, and had the strange sense that wherever Aragorn went when that time came, he would be right by the man's side. 


	8. You Will be Elessar, the Elfstone

Authors Note: Here we go! It is Monday and here is the next part, just as promised. Now I am at a bit of an impass. I know where I am going for the next few chapters with Aragorn's recovery and the beginning of the friendship between the two princes, but where after that? Any suggestions? Or should I end it soon? Is anyone still reading this? Tell me what you think (  
  
  
  
Those who were in the room with Aragorn could hardly have missed the first movement he had made in days. His entire body stiffened, pulling harshly against the sewn stitches in both his chest and back. His sword hand, long listless, tightened and moved to his side, as if searching a sword. Arwen was right next to him and jumped in surprise, reaching out to touch him, concerned. Elrond got up from the chair across the room from his foster- son. Elladan and Elrohir had been admitted sometime before and had been talking quietly on the balcony, but turned to stare. Legolas was the last person in the room and he had been standing behind the chair that Arwen had been sitting in.  
  
"What is it father? What's wrong with him?" Arwen asked nervously, clutching at Aragorn's hand. His body remained taunt with power and fury waiting to be sprung.  
  
"I do not know, though he seems as if he might be dreaming." Elrond checked Aragorn's pulse to find it racing. "He is lost somewhere in a battle. This may be the moment…perhaps he is deciding now whether he will return to us." Arwen looked at her father in alarm.  
  
"Estel!" Her voice was commanding if not afraid. "Come back Estel," her last words were whispered in the quiet room, quite plain for all to hear. Elladan and Elrohir drew near to the bed and Legolas did too, all with eyes on Aragorn, who's body remained tight, his muscles clearly showing through the thin bedcovers. All they could see was what Aragorn must have looked like when he was ready to spring in the wild as a Ranger. If they had known what he was seeing, they might have been more afraid.  
  
Inside the darkness of Aragorn's mind, a battle was indeed about to start. The nine Nazgul were there in his imagination and it seemed that they wanted to claim him. Aragorn, though tired in mind and body, was not willing to give up the fight just yet. He did indeed have much to live for. The cruel black figures approached him cautiously, and Aragorn's body tensed as he reached for his sword at his side. His hand rested on the hilt with comfort, in fact, it was almost too comfortable. He had a strange feeling that it was not truly his sword. As the riders grew closer, Aragorn pulled the sword from it's sheath, only to find it was nothing more than a broken bit of sword on a beautiful hilt, however, Aragorn knew the sword the moment his eyes rested on it. It was Narsil. Many a time he had held the same sword in the caves of Rivendell, wondering how Elendil held it when he had fought Sauron.  
  
However, at that moment, he was not wondering how Elendil had held it, he was wondering what good it would do him. Aragorn was pleasantly surprised when a bright light seemed to flash and when it had faded, Narsil was whole in his hand, re-forged in a new glory. The Nazgul seemed to quail in the sight of it, but continued their advance toward the gray-eyed Ranger, who was preparing himself for attack. His jaw was set firmly and if Elrond could have seen him the way Aragorn perceived himself in his mind, he would have been reminded of Elendil and Isildur and the way all the Kings of Gondor looked. Aragorn stood just below the crest of the hill, his dark hair blowing a bit in the breeze, his jaw set, feet, covered in well worn boots, set slightly apart, dressed in black and gray from head to foot, cloak fluttering in the wind, and with eyes set on those who would attack him. Any other foe would have turned and run, for he seemed to grow in stature, and he did not start out as any sort of short man to begin with. However, the Nazgul seemed impervious to his image, and they attacked. The fight had begun.  
  
This chain of events caught Elrond and the others off guard, for Aragorn's body thrashed in the bed, responding to the fight it believed was going on. Gasping, Arwen stepped back, unsure of the cause of the apparent seizure. Elladan and Elrohir moved to restrain their brother to the best of their ability, forgetting how strong he had become.  
  
"He is dreaming. He is fighting!" Elrohir was concerned. Elrond nodded and he moved to help them.  
  
"He will hurt himself in the process," Elladan muttered, grasping one of Aragorn's arms.  
  
"Arwen, run and get my herbs, we will need them," Elrond told her hurriedly, and without argument, Arwen ran from the room.  
  
"Legolas if this escalates, we may need your help."  
  
"I am right here Lord Elrond and I will do what I must."  
  
The battle indeed did escalate. Aragorn felt the strange sense of déjà vu as he parried the strikes from the wraiths. They were cold and calculating, while he was warm and observant, knowing where to move, just in time. For some reason, Aragorn was pleased to find he was not tiring. The sword seemed to lend to him an unnatural strength and he inwardly thanked the men who had wrought it for his forefather. Blow after blow were felt and Aragorn's parries were desperate to keep up and fight the nine, but it seemed as if he might survive. One of the wraiths slipped by his defenses, slicing him across the chest, a mirror of the true wound that Aragorn carried. The Ranger was caught by surprise and fell to his knees, just as he had before. Another sword came down on his back and Aragorn felt the threat of death upon him.  
  
Do not die. You have come this far upon your journey. You have said yourself that you have much to live for. You will be Elessar, the Elfstone. Get up and fight. It was Arwen's voice again, this time in his head. Aragorn felt his body shudder, but he knew she was right. He had to get up. His blood may have been weak, but if he could stop the trend Isildur had started, he would try to now. He felt the ground beneath him and using Narsil, he pushed up, his body screaming in pain. However, he rejoined the fight, fighting with a renewed energy, slicing dangerously at the Nazgul. He was like a man possessed. He let instinct take over, longing for it to be over so he could reach the White City.  
  
Suddenly, just as the Nazgul had come, they were gone. Aragorn was left standing there, holding the sword in his hand. Blood ran down his body, but he hardly noticed. He was to busy staring at the sword. It was no longer Narsil re-forged, but his own beloved sword, given to him long ago by Elladan and Elrohir when he had left Rivendell. With much weariness and pain, he stumbled up the rest of the hill and when he had reached the top, he was rewarded with the sight of the sun shinning off the White City, sparkling like diamonds. If he had not collapsed and been on his way to darkness, he might have heard the cry of trumpets, welcoming Gondor's true king home.  
  
It had taken all four elves to hold Aragorn's body down when the thrashing had started. It had continued to intensify and Elrond was even afraid for Aragorn. Legolas was unsure of what to think. Was the Ranger dying? He hoped not, but he could not bear to look at the pained expression Aragorn's face had adopted. All four elves held him down, anxious to make sure he did not hurt himself badly, for he had already torn the stitches and was bleeding freely again. Arwen had returned just as his body calmed, lying still, but it had not lasted and the convulsions worsened after that. The strong she-elf stood back, fighting fear and tears, trying to tell herself that her beloved Estel would survive through this. She had never seen such a thing happen before and it was not something she wished to repeat, ever. Finally though, his body seemed to relax and a peaceful smile seemed to spread on Aragorn's face. Elrond watched carefully and Legolas spoke first.  
  
"What is this? Is he done? Will he live?" However, no one had the answers to the questions. At that moment, Aragorn ceased breathing and his body was still.  
  
"No!" Arwen cried in fear, rushing to her lover's side, but just as she reached him, he took a shuddering breath, followed by a sharp intake of breath and a pained moan. Elladan and Elrohir stepped back and Elrond leaned in to see what was happening. Legolas drew Arwen back a bit and they waited, all with frozen breath, to see if he would continue to breathe.  
  
At long last, they were rewarded, and not only did he breathe again, but his eyelids fluttered and came open with a start. Elrond could not help but smile as he saw his son's gray eyes. Aragorn had survived. 


	9. The Two Princes Spin Their Tales

Authors Note: Here is the next chapter. Aragorn will be well enough to travel soon. Would you like to see some interaction between Arwen and Aragorn before they leave? And after I have them get back to Mirkwood, should I end this? Tell me what you think…hope you enjoy!  
  
  
  
Aragorn's recovery preceded rapidly once he had woken up. He became stronger everyday, and insisted that he remain conscious while Elrond re- sewed his wounds. He seemed anxious not to sleep too much, as if he feared his dreams. Elrond was very relieved at his recovery and Arwen had become her calm self-sufficient self once more. Legolas had helped with everything he could, anxious to stay near the Ranger, though Aragorn was not yet up to talking to him. Elrond promised Legolas that the time would come soon enough. Once Elladan and Elrohir had been assured that their brother would live, they bid him farewell and left to finish their hunting trip.  
  
Finally, Aragorn felt well enough to talk to both Elrond and Legolas. Legolas was eager as was Aragorn, for no one had told the young man how Legolas had come to be trussed on the back of his own horse in the company of nine very evil wraiths.  
  
Legolas once again entered Elrond's room where Aragorn still resided. The young Ranger sat in the bed still, though he was propped up against the ornate headboard. His chest was covered in clean white bandages and much of his natural color had returned. The lacerations on his arms were healing surprisingly quickly. Legolas noted that Aragorn must not have heard him enter, for the Ranger did not turn to look at him. Instead, Aragorn's attention was focused on his sword, which he was lifting into the air and holding it there.  
  
"How is your sword arm Strider? Have you recovered your strength?" Legolas questioned. Aragorn nearly dropped the sword in surprise, clearly startled by the elf's presence. Legolas laughed lightly at Aragorn's incredulous look. "Ahh, my keen Ranger, now we are even. You startled me in the woods and I startled you here. I have finally beat you at your own game."  
  
Aragorn smiled warmly and chuckled, though it seemed to pain him. "Prince Legolas, I thought that you must have returned to you own wooded home."  
  
"Something strange has kept me here, a feeling that you and I are to…adventure together. If it becomes more clear to me, you will be the first to know. Let us not dwell on it now, instead, tell me how you are feeling."  
  
Aragorn stared at Legolas for a brief time, absorbing what he had said. Finally, he spoke. "I am much better than when you found me. Elrond's skill has saved me and I am healing quickly. I long to be up and out of this room, for I regret feeling helpless and listless. I miss the gardens of Rivendell. I rarely have the time to dwell her in my childhood home. However, Elrond insists I am too weak to get up, and although I would like to argue, I have enough trouble lifting my own sword."  
  
"I understand your anxiousness, but you were nearly dead! And even though you are the Heir of Isildur and your blood aids you, you are far from immortal."  
  
"You have learned my secret!" Aragorn smiled warmly again, but his face looked drawn and tired.  
  
"Arwen told me." At the mention of Arwen's name, Aragorn's eyes lit up like strange gray flames and he stirred restlessly and opened his mouth to speak, but closed it, staring past Legolas. Legolas realized that just as he had come upon Aragorn unawares, someone had come upon himself, also unawares. He turned to find Lord Elrond standing behind him.  
  
"Estel, put down that sword," the tone was fatherly and unconsciously, Aragorn did as he was told. "I see you two have formally met now. I am glad to find you here Legolas. Perhaps you can both explain to me the events that brought the Prince of Mirkwood to my borders bearing my wounded foster-son, the Heir of Isildur." Aragorn and Legolas looked at each other, finding it hard not to smile at Elrond's curiosity, mostly because in truth, they too were curious about each other's side of the story.  
  
"We will do our best," Aragorn assured Elrond. "Though I think Legolas should go first and then I can pick up the story."  
  
"Fair enough," Legolas agreed and spun his tale of the search for the disturbances and his stumbling upon the Nazgul. He revealed his capture an ended the story with how he had keenly observed the fight with his ears and had later found Aragorn on death's doorstep and did his best to get the Ranger to Rivendell before he died. "Now my question for you, Aragorn, is what you were doing on the road and what madness possessed you to provoke the Nazgul?"  
  
Aragorn sighed and told quickly of his visit to Mirkwood on his rounds of the area not too far from the Shire. He had counseled with King Thranduil about the sightings of dangerous and most likely evil creatures on the borders of the forest. Thranduil had been concerned – Sauron was gathering dark things to him, and that could mean only one thing. He would soon be searching for the ring of power. Aragorn had to agree with this theory and had promised to take a message of Thranduil's concern to Elrond, requesting a meeting of the elves in the near future. He had left Mirkwood behind schedule, riding hard to Rivendell, for he was overdue to be back on his vigil watch over the Shire area. The rain had slowed his progress and tired both himself and Evaria and it was then that he had come across the riders.  
  
"And to answer your question Legolas, I did no know they were Nazgul, and truth be told, I know very little about them at all. In my defense, I did not provoke them. Strangely enough, it was as if their horses saw me, though I do not know how. You know the rest, for you found me and brought me safe to Rivendell. Thank you. There ends my story."  
  
Elrond was quiet for sometime, glancing occasionally from the window to where Aragorn rested on the bed. Neither prince, elf nor man, moved.  
  
"Well, fate has brought you both here. This is an ill tiding and you were lucky to escape with your life Estel. We can take comfort in the fact that they did not recognize you, for they surely would have killed you and everything would have ended before it had a chance to start. Legolas, I am grateful for your perseverance in bringing Estel back here. However, your father must be worried and you should return home in the near future."  
  
"Father, let him stay. I have to travel back to my territory and must pass through Mirkwood on that trip and I should like a companion. Legolas can assist me, if you do not mind that is my elf friend, in helping me to recover my strength. Elladan and Elrohir do not have time to train with me, and if I have my way, I will not be here long." Elrond seemed to consider this, obviously unhappy with Aragorn's eagerness to go.  
  
"Very well, but you must not hurry things Estel. You are still weak and hurt and pushing yourself will just slow your recovery."  
  
"Yes father," the tone was sincere, but the impish grin forming at the corners of Aragorn's mouth revealed that Aragorn truly looked at Elrond as his father. Elrond shook his head in worry, but the smirk reminded him of Aragorn as a child, promising Elrond he would never take an unnecessary chance, which both had known was a lie.  
  
"Rest," Elrond's final word was soft and compassionate and he stood slowly and left with deliberation, leaving Legolas and Aragorn to talk of their journey to come. 


	10. You Are My Beloved

Authors note: Thanks so much for all your reviews, I really appreciate it. I had a really bad day, so don't shoot me if this chapter isn't good. I have decided to keep writing as long as I keep getting reviews ( Hope you enjoy this little piece about Aragorn and Arwen…just to keep reminding everyone there is no intent to slash (yuck!). Enjoy and please review!  
  
  
  
The night in Rivendell grew cold and the mist from the waterfall let off a warm steam that floated up into the trees. The sounds were soft and comfortable, and Aragorn slept soundly for the first time in many nights. He had been exhausted, yet had longed not to sleep at all. He had never feared his dreams before, but after his recent experience he did. His body had not been in agreement with his mind in the rebellion of sleep though, and eventually he fell asleep. Aragorn's fears proved to be unfounded and his mind rested as he slept soundly. Most of the elves slept easily that night, safe within the borders of Imladris. In the great house of Elrond, every elf was asleep except for one. This elf had no intention of being in bed any times soon, there was a purpose to complete.  
  
Black shod feet walked noiselessly in the ways of the elves. The feet made their way to Lord Elrond's room where Aragorn lay sleeping. Pale hands opened the door silently and a lithe body crept into the chamber. Dark eyes looked first to the sleeping future king, then around the room, noting that the curtains serving as doors to the balcony blew softly in the breeze. The elf made its way to Aragorn's bed and sat gently next to the blissful Heir. The elf leaned down and gently pushed a strand of hair from Aragorn's forehead.  
  
"At last you sleep my love," the voice was soft and musical and belonged to Arwen. Unable to resist the urge, she bent down and kissed him lightly on the lips. Though the kiss was worth much, she regretted it when his eyes opened. Her worry melted when he smiled.  
  
"Arwen…"  
  
"Shh…I did not mean to wake you. Go back to sleep."  
  
"You think your beauty gives you the right to tease me?" his voice was teasing itself and he eased himself into a sitting position. "If Elrond catches you here…"  
  
"He will not," Arwen's response was said with a smile as she laid her finger on his lips.  
  
"I shall be fed to the orcs, not you lovely lady."  
  
"Never! You are far to important Estel!"  
  
"So I've been told," his smile was impish and he ran his finger along her cheek- bone. "However, I am not yet important enough to marry the most beautiful elf in this cold world."  
  
"Estel, I'm hurt! You want to marry Galadriel, my grandmother?" With that, both fell victim to silent laughter.  
  
"Never my lady…never."  
  
As the young lovers whispered their banter, only one overheard them. Legolas had been with Aragorn most of the day and they had shared stories of many adventures. Finally Aragorn had fallen asleep and Legolas was also more tired than he thought. He had told himself he would retire once he had looked at the magnificent view the balcony provided. Somehow he had never made it off the balcony and had awoken when he had heard someone moving about in the room. Leaping silently to his feet, the Prince had pulled his dagger and prepared to jump through the curtains. He was just ready to spring and attack when he had heard Arwen's soft words to the sleeping Aragorn. He stopped just short of bursting through the curtains and instead watched his friend as she kissed Aragorn.  
  
Legolas knew it was wrong to listen to their conversation, but not only did he have no place to go, but he could not tear himself away. Their relationship intrigued Legolas and he wanted to know what drew Arwen to Aragorn. He could not help but smile at their playful conversation. He also could not help but be somewhat surprised at their intimacy, Aragorn touching Arwen's face, Arwen touching his hand.  
  
"Come beloved, for I long to walk in the grass by our bridge." Aragorn was getting out of bed.  
  
"No Estel!" Arwen hissed, grasping his arm. "You are far to weak!"  
  
"I will be fine. I need a short walk. Come Arwen, I know my own limits," his voice was firm, but in no way harsh or belittling. Arwen stood and took his hand, smiling.  
  
"I know you do," she said as she placed her other hand over his heart, her hand resting on his bare skin. Legolas noted that they seemed to glow and Aragorn seemed enchanted by her touch. Aragorn leaned forward slowly and kissed her, with passion and yet with a deep respect. The two of them left the room hand in hand, Arwen dressed in a flowing white dress, and Aragorn only in a pair of soft black pants.  
  
Legolas turned to face the view again, his mind awash with the power in the relationship he had just witnessed. Soon enough, the unlikely lovers walked below the balcony, towards the stream. In the moonlight, Aragorn's wounds looked harsh and garish, but Arwen seemed not to notice. As they passed into the trees and out of sight, neither were aware they had been observed. Legolas knew that he should leave Aragorn's chambers now, before he returned, but he could not persuade himself to leave. He had to know if Aragorn would return alone.  
  
Though the time seemed to pass slowly, it was not long until Legolas' keen eyesight picked out the two of them returning from the stream. They walked closely, but did not touch. Soon they passed underneath the balcony, meaning Aragorn would soon be returning. With almost no noise, the doors parted once more, and Legolas watched as Aragorn entered, followed by Arwen. Aragorn seemed tired and sat down a little to heavily, Arwen easing him to lie down.  
  
"I suppose I did tire myself out some."  
  
"Will you be all right?" Arwen touched his forehead with the back of her hand.  
  
"Yes Arwen, I promise." With those words, she seemed relieved and he could not help but smile at her beauty. "You should sleep."  
  
"As should you Estel." He nodded and lay back fully. Arwen covered him up and kissed him on the forehead. Aragorn tried to grasp her hand, but sleep was fast overtaking him.  
  
"Arwen…"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"…you are my beloved."  
  
"And you are mine." With those final words, spoken with such an innocent truth and purity, she crept from the room, as silently as she had come. Legolas sat still as a boulder for a very long time, trying to absorb all he had just observed. He did not understand how it had happened, but now he understood something far greater. Aragorn loved Arwen and Arwen loved Aragorn. 


	11. I Would Give My Sword and My Life

Author's Note: Sorry it has been so long since I have written! Things have been very crazy here, college bogs you down sometimes! I hope you have not lost interest, and I hope that this chapter makes up for the wait, I am rather pleased with it. Please tell me what you think. I'd love the feedback. Want another chapter? You tell me!  
  
  
  
Aragorn stretched luxuriously in the warm sun. His body felt a million times better than before. Although he knew Elrond would be most unhappy, Aragorn thought that it was time that he regain his fighting strength. He loved being there in Rivendell, for he missed his foster Father and brothers, but he was restless. As any Ranger, he longed to return to the wilderness that was his home. His love for the elven land and Elrond, Elohir, and Elladan kept him wishing he could stay, despite the cry of his hear to return to his duty and that which he knew best. More than family bound his heart to Rivendell, for as much as he wanted to leave, his whole being rebelled at the thought of leaving his beloved Arwen, despite the fact that there love was all but forbidden by Elrond until Aragorn could defeat the curse of his own blood.  
  
Aragorn shook the darkening thoughts from his mind as he began to dress, careful to test the range of his movement. As he bent to put on his worn leather boots, he barely detected the soft footfall of an elf entering the room. His mind worked quickly, realizing that the steps were to slow to be that of either of his brother's, to unguarded to be those of Lord Elrond's, and not light enough to be the foot fall of Arwen.  
  
"Legolas, I'm pleased to find you here," Aragorn said, hazarding a guess at the owner of the footfalls, his body still bent over as he secured his second boot.  
  
"Never have I met a man that could hear an elf, least of all identify what elf approaches. However, rumors betray you. I have heard that you just pretend to be a man and are really an elf in disguise, out for glory," the Prince of Mirkwood's voice was light and joking and Aragorn smiled as he sat up, finding Legolas standing nearly in front of him.  
  
"Do you believe everything you hear Legolas?"  
  
"Not generally, but there is so little to hear about you and everything there is to hear about you is so very cryptic, that I would almost take anything as truth, for I have no way to gauge anything."  
  
"I am a very simple man with a very complicated destiny." Aragorn stood up once more and reached for his sword and bow that lay carefully placed on a chair. He was uncomfortable with where the conversation was going and he changed the subject. "My brothers are on a short journey for Lord Elrond and I cannot stay in this room any longer. I need to regain my strength through exercise. Would you be willing to join me?"  
  
"I would be honored," the elf replied, trying to gauge Aragorn's physical state. "You are well enough?"  
  
"We will see." Aragorn's reply was half of a laugh as he turned and walked out of the room, hoping Legolas would follow without pressing him further. Legolas stared after him for a moment, then moved to catch up. The two young warriors, both future kings, walked side by side out into the wood and clearings of Rivendell. If anyone had been able to see them, they would have been the picture of majesty and peace. Two very different races, talking softly with mirth and understanding. A great king of men, and a wise king of the elves, together in friendship. It should have been a song or a painting. Legolas let Aragorn lead, assuming correctly that the Ranger had a specific destination in mind as they climbed the hills in the wood.  
  
"When I was a child I used to follow Elohir and Elladan to this place to watch them practice their archery. They taught me here when I was old enough." The two companions came through a dense thicket and it soon opened into an almost perfectly round clearing which overlooked the waterfall. Legolas was enamored with the simple beauty of the place and Aragorn turned round in circles, as if breathing in past memories.  
  
"This place is…" Legolas found no words. Aragorn understood the sentiment and merely smiled to show his understanding.  
  
"Legolas, long have I wished to see your skill with your bow. Would you show me now?" The elf was immediately embarrassed, but Aragorn was sincere in his request and stood waiting.  
  
"I suppose…" Aragorn nodded and backed up, revealing a target on the far side of the clearing, away from the waterfall. Legolas notched an arrow and took his aim. He could practically feel the Ranger watch his every movement and gauge his technique. Legolas let the arrow loose and it flew strait and true, striking the target nearly dead center. Legolas repeated his motions, loosing many an arrow. He was pleased when Aragorn drew his own bow. His pleasure soon turned to worry when his keen ears caught an unguarded hiss of pain when Aragorn shot his fist arrow. The arrow arched a bit wide and hit the edge of the target. Aragorn was obviously displeased. "Are you all right my friend?"  
  
"Because I doubt that I could lie to you, you being and elf and me being a very poor well liar, I will tell you the truth. I am all-right I suppose. I am sore and very out of practice. The pain is minimal however the frustration is acute."  
  
"You are weak Aragorn," Legolas replied, but knowing this would not please the young man, he continued. "Shoot again if it does not pain you." Aragorn merely nodded and notched another arrow. Legolas observed that he clenched his teeth to fight back the pain as he drew back on the string, letting it go with a slight intake of air to stop a cry of pain. This time the arrow met it's mark, nearly dead center, embedded amongst Legolas' arrows. However, the effort had clearly hurt Aragorn, for he turned away from Legolas, hiding a look of discomfort. Legolas hesitated to speak. Should he question Aragorn on his decision to be here, so early after his near death experience? Surely the young Ranger would not take that well. "Aragorn, even in your pain, your skill rivals mine. Elladan and Elohir taught you very well."  
  
Aragorn turned to face Legolas, his face a mask of confusion, clearly surprised at Legolas' choice of words.  
  
"Truly? Or do you say that to appease my wounded pride? Legolas, I am really not a stubborn foolish man, but I do miss my calling as of now…so dearly that I long for it each night."  
  
"Aragorn, I spoke truth fully when I praised you. I have seen many an archer, and rare are those that shoot as soundly as you do." A look of relief passed over Aragorn's fair face, as a shadow fell off of him and he was bathed in sunlight. Legolas was stunned, for he no longer saw a wounded man, but a great king of men, standing tall for his people. Seconds later, a cloud cast a shadow and the King was gone. Left in the King's place was a weather-beaten and knowledgeable Ranger of the North, young but experienced. In moments, the ranger too was gone, leaving only Aragorn, but he looked young and Legolas could not help but imagine him as a young child, laughing and playing in that very clearing. All of this seemed to have transpired in a matter of moments. Aragorn seemed not to have noticed. Legolas shivered unexpectedly, even in the warmth of the day.  
  
"Yes, your skill is worthy of an elf…" Legolas stumbled over the words for a moment, then regained his composure. "I wish to know of this calling you speak of, for you are a confusing creature. I know you refer to your calling, Strider, as a need to return to the wild and to your fellow Dunedain, too full-fill your duty as a Ranger. However, I feel that somewhere inside your calling, Estel, is to be just that, the hope of man. Tell me, what do you feel your true calling is. Do you believe, Aragorn son of Arathorn, the so called Elfstone, that you will sit on the throne of Gondor one day, finally taking from the Stewards what rightfully belongs to you, to your blood?" The speech was passionate, confusing, honest, and meant to be convicting, for Legolas could not understand why such a great man had chose exile, and Legolas truly marveled that one man, a mere mortal as he was, could face such a great destiny, on that seemed only fit for song and story. Now Legolas waited, wondering if he had said too much, for he could not read Aragorn's face. The Ranger seemed perplexed, sad, angry, guilty, hopeful, and irritated almost at the same time. Now you have overstepped your bounds, Legolas. You may be a prince, but this will someday be the crowned king of Gondor, lord of all men.  
  
Aragorn stood, seeming made of stone and rooted to the spot he stood in. His mind spun as Legolas threw at him the question, laced with conviction, that was like a plague to Aragorn. Aragorn knew that many of those who knew his true heritage wondered the same question in their minds, but few felt it was there place, or even dared to question Isildur's Heir. Anger flared within Aragorn's mind. How dare this elf question me at all? He does not know me! I am no more above him than below him. However, as quickly as his anger had come, it flew from him and Aragorn merely felt empty. He missed his mother.  
  
Sighing loudly, Aragorn set down his bow and turned to face Legolas. The elf seemed to care not if he had insulted Aragorn, or asked something he should not have, but Aragorn was bright enough to know that he could hardly ever read an elf's emotions if they did not want him to. "Legolas, what you ask is a very…confusing thing," Aragorn's voice was dangerously soft as he spoke, his words the perfect pronunciation in an elven tongue. "You are far braver than most, for save Elrond and my lady, whom I know you have discovered is Arwen, no one has ever asked me to reveal my inter-most thoughts on something so complicated. However, I owe you my life and therefore cannot find it in myself to not answer you. When I am done, though it is a simple thing, you will be one of few who know, you will be counted among Lord Elrond, Arwen Undomiel, Elohir and Elladan, and a few select Rangers of the North, my kinsmen. Alas, my poor mother, rest her where she lay, also knew. I have chosen exile. I fear my blood, as cowardly as that may sound. I am not yet ready to face the evil and all is well, for the evil is not ready to be faced. I fear that the blood which runs in my veins will betray me, as Isildur's bane did to him. I wish not to speak of such dark things. I feel my destiny will take me whether I want it to or not, and I would not avoid going, though I may fear, my fear is doubt in myself and in no other. Do not take me for a fool of a man who would shirk his duty and do not what he must, for I would rather sacrifice myself than see those I care about and love perish for my selfishness. When the time comes, and I shudder to think about it, I pray I will be ready. In the mean time, I will remain Strider, the dark stranger who no one understands, wandering and protecting the wilds across Middle Earth. I will always be Aragorn and will fulfill the name Estel when it comes time and though I fear it, someday I do hope to take the name Elessar, and sit on the throne of Gondor, if for nothing else than to save Middle Earth from blackness…" with those words, Aragorn trailed off, wondering if he had said to much and wondering more if Legolas could understand the pain within his heart. He stalked silently away, not angry, but tired and stood staring into the waterfall. "I would give my sword and my life."  
  
"Aragorn…say we remain friends, for I never should have asked you such a thing. I am so very curious about you that I do not think to keep my tongue in check. I think you brave for your words and I doubt not that you would go and do as your destiny bids you. Merely, I wish to be by your side when you go. You would have me then, as your friend, your companion?"  
  
"Legolas, all is forgiven. I understand your curiosity, many are curious though none ask. I would have no better an elf to travel with me, yet my path will be dark and full of danger and deceit. Never would I bid you come even if I knew I must take a companion. However, I do not know what the future holds, and who will go with me. For all I know it would be a hobbit," here he chuckled softly to himself, and Legolas was relieved at the light sound. "You know, a halfling. Though the idea is absurd," he laughed again and turned back to Legolas. "Come Legolas. Already I have shown that I am too weak to fight as of yet. Let's walk and I will show you of my childhood home and you will tell me of Mirkwood. Perhaps you might even like to explain to me your interest in my relationship with Arwen."  
  
Aragorn's words caught Legolas off guard as he followed the Ranger up a steep path from the clearing. He froze in mid-step, fearful of Aragorn's wrath at the intrusion on his privacy, wondering madly how the man had discovered Legolas had seen the two lovers together. However, when Aragorn turned to look at him, the Ranger's face seemed to have grown very young again, as that of a teenaged man, who grinned at him widely in a peace offering, showing Legolas that he had been being teased.  
  
"You would like to know wouldn't you?" the elf asked, half glaring at Aragorn. "Some things elves must keep to themselves." And so the two companions, now bonded deeper than before, traversed the woods of Imladris, where Aragorn had played in simpler times and they spent the afternoon in bliss and forgot all the dark things of the world. 


	12. My Consolation is That He Loves You

Authors Note: Once again, sorry for the delay. I had quite a time this last week, getting my wisdom teeth out and did not feel like doing much. Once again, I hope your wait is rewarded. I am very happy with this chapter. It may be a bit serious at the beginning, but I love the end. I hope you all like it. Please review, that is what keeps me going! Legolas and Aragorn will be leaving Rivendell very shortly and I wonder what you would like to see after that? Should I tell of their trip or leave it shortly? Tell me what you think!  
  
Sterenlicht – Thanks for reviewing! I am glad you enjoyed it. Truthfully, you're the reason I made myself keep writing. I hope you enjoy this chapter!  
  
Fumble – I am not sure I made it clear, but Aragorn was joking when he was talking about the Hobbit being with him…as if it were preposterous that that would ever happen. Does that make sense?  
  
  
  
Elrond watched out his window in the warmth of the day. Golden light filtered through the trees and danced lazily on the balcony. Elrond's gaze was drawn to it, but he could hardly tear his eyes from the scene below him. In the courtyard of the main stable, not to far from the main house, there were four figures engaged in what seemed to be a fierce battle. At least, one would have thought it was fierce if it were not for the use of dulled swords and laughter that echoed through the valley of Rivendell. In the midst of the foray were Elrond's twin sons, Elrohir and Elladan, who fought side by side as if they were born to dance. Their movements were subtle but well planned and any fighting against them had to be as much aware of one as they were aware of the other. Another elf did his own dance in the midst of the swordplay. He had long golden hair that streamed down his back in a tight braid. His laughter was light, delighted in his foes and their attacks. He was dressed mostly in green, labeling him easy as a wood elf, unlike the elves of Imladris, who dressed mostly in gray and brown. This elf was Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of Mirkwood. The last combatant in the chaos was no elf at all, though he was as light on his feet as any elf. He had brown hair that fell to his shoulders and a youthful grin that replaced lines of worry and hardship on a young face that should not have borne what it did. He was a man, and he was Aragorn, proud Ranger of the North, clever Estel, and future King of Gondor, the Elfstone. Each of the figures laughed and joked as they fought, filling the glen with a fairytale like atmosphere. They were like children, lost in their play, never stopping to see the outside world. They were involved in an intricate dance that was complimented by intricate word play. If Elrond had not known better, he would have placed this scene from Estel's childhood, when he was no more than ten.  
  
But these were grown men now. The elves were hundreds of years old. Estel was nearing true manhood, having had much experience. They were no longer children lost in a dream world of simplicity. Elrond sighed heavily, turning his eyes from the swordplay. It was something of joy, but Elrond knew it would ultimately lead to Estel leaving Rivendell. The Ranger could hardly stay there for as long as Elrond wished in his heart, but he felt that Estel was far to eager to leave. The young man was too stubborn to realize the damage that had been done to his body. He felt stronger, but Elrond knew that even Estel realized he was hardly back to his full capacity. However, there would be no persuading Estel to stay. The man was as stubborn as Isildur had been on the steps of Mt. Doom.  
  
"Are you all right Father?" Arwen's soft voice interrupted his thoughts.  
  
"Arwen…I did not hear you come up. Yes, I'm fine."  
  
"You are worrying about Estel. Do not father. As his kind say, he is a grown man."  
  
"I know daughter. He is not yet healed, yet his pride wills him back to the wild."  
  
"Not his pride father. No, not his pride. More like every part of what and who he is."  
  
"Once again you are right. You have wisdom only you mother rivaled. Come let us not talk of Estel," Elrond said slowly, turning to face his beautiful daughter. He was in time to see something flash in her eyes and he knew he had said the wrong thing. She wished to speak of Estel and Elrond knew well fully. Despite all he had tried to do to prevent it, he could not tempt fate. Arwen loved Estel and dearly as he loved her. Elrond touched her cheek gently, as if asking for forgiveness. "You want to leave with him, I see it in your eyes."  
  
"No father! I would not leave you!"  
  
"Arwen," his voice was sad as he took her hand and led her off the balcony. "You may say that now, but we both know that in time you will leave me. You will go with Estel when he has done as I have required of him. You may think it cruel for me to place such a thing on his young shoulders, but I have not done it. I have only added to it, whether that be fair or not. I cannot give you over to someone who may die so young. If he can live to that time where he has passed the darkness you will be able to share many a wonderful day with Estel. However, if he is not the one…if he is not the Heir that overcomes all else, he would leave you bitter, alone, and worst of all mortal."  
  
"Love you may understand Father, but not the love I have for Estel. Although I cry in my heart just at the thought of being separated from you, mother, Elladan and Elrohir for all of time, I would grieve in the Gray Havens for all I would do is be broken hearted for the loss of my one true love. It is worth dying to be with him for a few short years. It is murder to think of being separated from him for all of eternity. What kind of life is that? I know I must abide your decision as Estel has chosen to do…but I long to be by his side at every moment. I want to be called his lady. I want him to hold my hand as we walk side by side," she paused as Elrond turned away, pain welling up in his heart. "Father, please feel no guilt in this matter. I know you wish at moments that you never brought Estel to Imladris…but it was hardly a choice. Fate decided for you and the guilt would be worse than any other thing if you had let that poor baby die at the hands of those evil creatures."  
  
"Shh Arwen. Worry not for me. cand I know he will care for you like no one else can when the time comes. Please, let us not speak of such sad things. It seems as though they have finished their playing. We should meet them…" Elrond offered Arwen his arm and though she hesitated for a moment, clearly wondering if the conversation should be over, she finally took it and they descended the stairs to meet the three elves and Estel.  
  
Legolas laughed once more at one of Aragorn's many jests as they came through the doors into the main house together. Aragorn offered him a sly smile, wiping sweat from his brow. Elladan and Elrohir made more comment on Aragorn's terrible sense of humor and pushed their foster brother further into the room. They were all high in spirits and joyfully piled their dulled swords in the corner. Legolas sighed in a way of contentment, trying to remember the last time he had had so much fun. It had been some time and he was grateful for the release it had been. The elf twins were in fine form and it seemed as if Aragorn had hardly been away from their company the way the three of them bantered. Legolas had found it easy to join in and had thoroughly enjoyed the physically trying work out. He had learned much about the way Aragorn fought and came to the conclusion that many feared his skill with the sword for a good reason.  
  
"Well, I would like a bath," Aragorn said with a laugh, noticing for the first time how dirty he had become.  
  
"You take them rarely enough, I would beg you to!" Elladan remarked smartly.  
  
"At least I do not smell," Aragorn's tart reply was laced with a light air and Elladan glared at him, opening his mouth to reply.  
  
He was cut off by Elrohir, "Ahh, so that is where that stench is coming from. I was going to say something to the fair Prince of Mirkwood, but feared royal repercussions. I should have known the disgrace should come from my own flesh and blood."  
  
"Fine brother you are. You are supposed to defend me."  
  
"We spend so much time together that I can not help but thank my younger brother for pointing this out to you so I will not have to live with it much longer," Elrohir winked at Aragorn as he bounded out of range of Elladan's foot, which was poised to kick him.  
  
"Now now, you are as children aren't you?" the question was posed from the spiral staircase coming from the chambers above and all four jokers looked up to find Elrond and Arwen standing on the stair. Elrond looked as if he wanted an answer, his eyebrows arched in expectancy. Arwen stood serenely at his side, looking more than slightly bemused. "No, do not answer me. I wish not to know the level of your maturity. Instead, I believe that Aragorn had a point earlier. He needs a bath. As do all of you. I expect you will all be cleaned up for the diner that has been prepared for tonight."  
  
All four of them stood stock still, waiting for more. It was Aragorn who first realized that he was done.  
  
"Of course Lord Elrond," he said, bowing low to the ground in a grand sweeping motion that spoke of the genteel behavior he would one day expect to see in his own court.  
  
"Finally the boy learns manners. Ahh Estel, I see the company of Legolas has done you good," Elrond's well aimed barb caught Aragorn off guard and he looked up in surprise, ready to defend himself, but Elrond shook his head in amusement. "No, Estel, I am merely teasing you. I will see you all before the sun sets." Elrond turned with Arwen and they returned to where they had come from.  
  
"Needs to learn manners is right," Elladan said, swatting Aragorn upside the head. Aragorn resisted the urge to stick his tongue out at the elf, and instead turned to Legolas and Elrohir.  
  
"Come my friend, my brother, we should do as Lord Elrond asks and see who is ready first. Surely it will not be Elladan, for he will have to soak himself to rid himself of that terrible smell." With that final comment, Aragorn sprung for the stairs, avoiding Elladan. Legolas grinned. Yes, he did like it here. So much that he wondered how Aragorn could ever wish to leave. 


	13. Walk With Me My Queen

Authors Note: Here is the next chapter. I know that the description tells of how Legolas and Aragorn become friends and thus far I think I've been working on that really well. Please forgive me because Legolas is not in this chapter at all. I felt that Aragorn and Arwen needed some closure before I move on. In the next chapter, Legolas and Aragorn will be leaving Rivendell, so there will be more interaction between them then. Hope you enjoy this chapter. Every time I write more, I like each new chapter better than the last. Tell me what you think!!!  
  
Aragorn entered the garden with reverence that would befit him when he at last stood as king in Gondor. He knew well enough that the gardens of Rivendell were a place of silence. The gardens, peaceful and old, were a place of solace and deep thought. The elves often spent time there when troubled, sad, or in search of enlightenment. Aragorn himself had spent much time in the gardens, especially before he had chosen exile and refused to return to Gondor and take the throne as of yet. It was not a decision made lightly and Aragorn had found the gardens a safe place, far from the prying of the curious elves that wished to know of his plight and decision. However, Aragorn was not there in the garden to do any soul-searching, nor mourn for anything. He was there to find his lady. No one in Elrond's house had been able to tell him where Arwen was and that could mean one thing only, that she was seeking solace in her favorite place in Rivendell, her gardens.  
  
Aragorn easily took in his surroundings with a soft sigh. The gardens seemed to glow in the light of the rising sun. It was still very early and mist rose from the stream that was in the center of the garden. Aragorn knew the garden almost as well as he knew himself, and he had often dreamt of the stream when he had been far from its place of origin. Rivendell was the only place he could call home and much of what was familiar called to him while he was in the wilds all alone. Aragorn could feel his hair dampening from the mist and droplets hung from leaves and branches, for the sun had not risen high enough, nor burned hot enough yet to evaporate the moisture. Aragorn idly mused that if Elrond had the time, he would surely spend hours there in the garden, just to watch how the droplets would splash to the ground. If only any of them had time for such things. The garden was a place of mystery and magic wrapped into the folklore of the elves. Many wonderful things had happened there in the garden. Aragorn had first met Arwen there.  
  
With silent footfalls, Aragorn approached Arwen from behind. He had found her just where he had expected her to be. She sat with her back turned to him on the small, ornately carved foot bridge the stretched across the stream. Her feet dangled off the edge as if she were merely a child again. She seemed oblivious to his presence, but Aragorn knew well that little escaped the notice of the elf that he had pledged himself to. He paused at the foot of the bridge, desperately regretting the errand that brought him to her…the same errand that had brought her to this place already, early in the morning when things seemed cold and dark. Aragorn was aware that she was displeased, but he could not gauge if she was angry or sad, but he could not wait for her to come to him. He had decided the previous evening that he and Legolas should set out the following day, not past the early light if it could be helped. Lord Elrond had been quiet, clearly displeased, but he did not question his foster-son, nor try to reason with or beg the man he had raised as an elf. Aragorn could not have missed the fact that his father clearly thought that he was not healed enough to return to his dangerous duty as a Ranger.  
  
"Speak your peace Estel…you are leaving me this morning, have you no mercy?" Aragorn was stirred out of his reverie by her soft voice. It was pained greatly, bearing evidence that she had long been grieving that he leave her. Aragorn walked onto the bridge, his long strides bringing him to her side quickly. He crouched beside her, but she would not turn to look at him. He reached out and laid two fingers under her chin, turning her head towards him. He was shocked by what he saw when his eyes met hers. The dark, deep depths were pools of unshed tears, which now feel freely on his hand. She opened her mouth to speak again, but no words came.  
  
"Tinuviel, do not weep…please, I have never seen you cry, nor did I ever wish the first time to be at my cause. Oh Arwen, forgive me beloved…" Aragorn was at a loss as he spoke, his voice growing hoarse with an effort to control all of the emotion flooding through his mind. Indeed, he instantly considered staying on longer, after all, parting was such sweet sorrow. The thought was diminished when he realized that the time of parting with her would come again, no matter how long he put it off. The longer he stayed, the worse it would be for her to let him go.  
  
"Aragorn, how I wish you could stay. I would beg you if it would do any good. However, I know…" she struggled valiantly to stop her tears as she whispered into his hand. "I know that I cannot keep you from what you must do. Your Rangers…they need you…"  
  
"Shh…do not speak. Can you forgive me Arwen? It is true, I must return to my dunedain. They will be missing and needing my assistance. There is much that is dark in this world, and my fate brings me within a hair's breadth of all that is cruel and unmatched in the darkest nightmares, but such is what I must face. Fear not for me, sweet beloved. Why you wait for me, I will never understand…I deserve so much less, never to have reached out and touched something so important as you…"  
  
"Do not speak so Estel. I would not be able to live without you. You see my pain at being separated from you…if I were to lose you forever, I would not survive. In my mind I know that you must go. I am selfish to wish to keep you here, for many reasons. If I never let you go, you will never fulfill what you must and I will never be able to stand at your side as your Queen. I long for that more than anything else in this world. More than an unending life without you…" As she spoke, he reached out and wiped the tears from her eyes, and pushed her hair back behind a pointed ear. He marveled at her flawless face and ivory complexion. Her musical voice drew him into her words and he wanted to weep as never before.  
  
"I would stay longer if you asked it of me, Arwen. I would do anything to make you happy."  
  
"I know you would," she clasped his hand and he bent down, kissing her hand. "You must go Estel, this I know full well. I will grieve everyday that passes without you here with me, yet I will find joy knowing that you walk the path that will lead to us being together…for all of our time here in this place. Worry not for me. When you are lonely and cold, hold onto my memory…"  
  
"I hold onto your memory every moment of every day my lady. If you have given me your leave to go…I will, but only if you are certain," he looked into her eyes once more, now dry and resolute. He saw there Elrond's daughter, firm and wise, composed, certain, and calm.  
  
"I give you my leave Aragorn, son of Arathorn, Ranger of the North. However, you know full well of my conditions. You will return to me when it is convenient of your travels. You will not repeat the manner of your coming this time. I expect that when you travel, scheme, and plan with my darling brothers you will send word to me of how you are. Most of all…Estel, you must be careful. You must take care of yourself and do not take risks as you did as of late. Those things…you must never do that again."  
  
"I can promise you most of those things Lady, but you must forgive me for not giving you my word for all of them, as I would never want to be called a liar," as he said this, he got to his feet, and gently pulled her to her feet with him. The stood facing each other for sometime, spellbound in the moment. Then, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the forehead. When she had finished, he knelt before her and kissed her hand, as any King would do his Queen. "Walk with me my Queen and wish Legolas and I a safe trip…"  
  
"I would not dream of doing anything else."  
  
So the two lovers walked from the gardens, hearts both happy and sad at the same moment. Both longed for the moments spent locked in the gaze of the other to last for all eternity, but Aragorn's fate awaited him and fate waits for no one man, whether he be a poor dirty Ranger or a dark and handsome King of men. 


	14. Fare Thee Well Imladris

Authors Note: Here is the next installment…leaving Imladris. Hope you enjoy. Tell me what you think of this chapter. Thanks!  
  
Legolas waited patiently at the stable, holding on to Alutier's harness. The morning was cool and damp and the horse was anxious to get moving. Evaria, also already saddled, paced nervously on the lead rope, which Elladan held lightly in his hand, ignoring the restlessness of Aragorn's horse. Legolas observed Lord Elrond in the door of the stable, staring facing out, towards the gardens. Aragorn had left them a quite some time ago, explaining in hushed tones that he had not yet said goodbye to Arwen. Elrond had nodded, as if giving the Ranger some kind of consent, and Aragorn had hurried out, his direction and destination being the garden. Elrohir had smiled slightly, but seemed unconcerned. Finally, Elrond turned back to face his sons and Legolas. Legolas smiled at him.  
  
"Lord Elrond, I wanted to thank you for your hospitality. I found nothing but peace and rest here in Rivendell…"  
  
"Legolas, I am more than happy to have you here. It is far too rare a thing that I see any of my dear friends from Mirkwood. One would think that our race would take more care to stay in touch, yet we are almost worse than the dwarves in that respect," Lord Elrond smiled warmly. Legolas frowned. He had met several dwarves and liked none of them. Elladan recognized the face he was making and grinned at him. Legolas laughed.  
  
"You are right my Lord. Perhaps I will be able to convince my father that he must travel to visit you in the near future."  
  
"Not in these dangerous times Legolas. You are a brave elf."  
  
"Nay, my Lord. I am naught but a regular elf…"  
  
Lord Elrond laughed softly. Legolas looked at him in some confusion.  
  
"Legolas, I believe my father meant that you were brave to travel with Estel. After all, our brother is known to have quite a few brushes with all that is not right in Middle Earth. This you have already seen fist hand. Perhaps you might rethink traveling with so unlucky a companion?" Elrohir's voice was light and filled with mirth. Legolas smiled at the older elf.  
  
"Surely it is not that bad?"  
  
"I would have to agree with my brother…but since it seems that someday you may travel with him quite a bit, you had best get used to Estel's traveling habits now," Elladan winked at Legolas. Elrond was smiling for the first time that morning, obviously recalling some far off memories that had been buried for some time. Elladan looked as if he were about to add something else, but curtailed the remark due to a curious glance by Elrohir. The eye contact the two brothers made caused Legolas to glance at the door. There he saw the reason for the use of the silent message between the twins. Aragorn, dressed mostly in black and gray, with the same old leather boots yet a new gray cloak, walked hand in hand with a creature of stark contrast to himself. Arwen was dressed in a mantle of blue and silver that lit her pale complexion. She seemed even whiter this morning than she normally did and Legolas could not have missed the anguish that resided in her eyes.  
  
She aches because he leaves her. It is a sad legend that will be told someday of a rugged man, whose inner self displayed the likeness of a king, that stole the heart of the most beautiful creature this world had ever seen. His love for her was so strong he could have gone the length of time with only a touch, but each time he bid her that he must leave, her heart broke for him alone and tore her from her people. Legolas shook the thoughts from his head, trying to smile at his childhood friend. Aragorn too looked grieved, but his longing seemed to have turned into a determination that Legolas had already learned to recognized. When they reached the stable door, Aragorn released his lady's hand and let her pass before him. She went to the safety of her father's side and seemed to collect herself there.  
  
"I am sorry to have kept our journey Legolas. Are you ready?" Aragorn's voice seemed calm and he smiled at Legolas.  
  
"At your leisure," he replied. Aragorn nodded and turned to Elladan and Elrohir who stood to the side. Elladan handed Aragorn Evaria's lead rope as Legolas mounted Alutier with ease.  
  
"Take care Estel," Elladan's voice was soft as he touched his foster- brother on the shoulder.  
  
"Remember you are hardly a real elf and are far from immortal," Elrohir said with a mischievous grin. Aragorn smiled warmly back at Elrohir. "Take this my brother…and keep safe." Elrohir offered out a small bound package. Aragorn seemed taken by surprise, but accepted the gift without question, sliding it into his pack without opening it. Legolas wondered at it, but Elrohir seemed pleased with Aragorn's action.  
  
"You will meet me in the spring when the snow melts?" Aragorn asked them, hope in his voice.  
  
"We will. At the break in the river. You know the time…as always," Elladan assured Aragorn with a nod.  
  
"Then I will see you then my brothers. Watch your eastern border…but do not worry." With those cryptic words of advice that the twins seemed to understand, Aragorn turned to Elrond, avoiding the gaze of Arwen. "Goodbye my Lord," he bowed low, offering respect to the old and wise elf. When he stood again, Elrond stepped forward and kissed his forward. "The speed of the wind will take you safely back to your lands Aragorn, or so I hope. You are always welcome here in Imladris…please come more often if your duties permit," Elrond, bound by the ties of formality and a lasting separation, caused by the love that bound two of his children, could not offer what he felt in his heart. Although Aragorn, in all his wisdom, overlooked Elrond's easy dismissal, Legolas saw the pain Elrond experienced, wishing he could say more to the young man that stood in front of him.  
  
In the short time Legolas had been in Rivendell, his eyes had been opened. He had never seen the workings of something so strange as a great Elf Lord that raised a man child like an elf. The repercussions were great, regarding mostly the man's heritage, fate, and destiny. The complications increased, moment by moment it seemed, with a strange twist of fate…that being a love between the great lord's real daughter and the man he regarded as a son. Legolas had seen the complexity of the situation, yet he had not been blind to the emotion and love that was still expressed. It was something he would not forget, even when the sea called to him. Even that could not blur the memory of one of the most spellbinding happenings in Middle Earth, and he would not have wanted that to happen.  
  
Finally, Aragorn turned from Elrond after another bow and mounted Evaria with a swiftness that betrayed the belief Elrond held that Aragorn was still healing. Aragorn turned back to Arwen and a silent expression of trust and care passed between them in an unguarded moment. Then Aragorn dug his heel into Evaria's side ever so gently and the horse gladly made her way out of the stable. Glancing at the four elves that stood in the stable, Legolas waved, noting that Arwen had moved from her father's side to watch Aragorn's retreating form. Giving Alutier a nudge, he too passed through the stable door. As he passed, he was sure that his keen elven ears had heard a thought that Arwen had whispered aloud as she watched her lover leave. The words were dire and heartfelt.  
  
"I still…I still believe, you will return…I know you will… My heart against all odds holds true… Yes still, I still believe…I know as long as I can keep believing, I live, love cannot die, you will return…" Her words were full of hope and passion and Legolas could not bare to bring himself to turn around to see what kind of emotion played across her gentle face. He reigned in Alutier and soon rode right next to Aragorn.  
  
"Fare thee well Imladris…until I return…" Legolas watched as the young Ranger turned to look back at the only family he had. The elf noted the sad expression that marred Aragorn's usually passive features. He could only imagine that this was not the first time that Aragorn had said the quiet words in a resigned elvish. Silence passed between the two companions as they rode under the branches of the great forest that would soon give way to a larger path, leaving behind a place of peace and rest. Time seemed to pass slowly on this part of their journey and it wasn't until they were on the open path that Aragorn turned to Legolas. "Here we are my friend…another journey…another adventure," his last words were said with a curious grin and Legolas smiled.  
  
"I can think of no one better to share such an – adventure – with," Legolas was pleased when Aragorn smiled.  
  
"Good, because I fear you are stuck with me now." 


	15. It Rains Not This Day

Authors Note: Once again, sorry for the delay. I'm still not quite sure where I am going with this now, so bear with me. I hope you enjoy it. Just a reminder…Tolkien never explained how Legolas and Aragorn had met, so this is my own take on it, and it is bound to be AU, especially since I'm not Tolkien ;) Tell me what you think!  
  
E.E.E. ~ Like I said before, this will not be a slash story, I hope that was demonstrated in the time I took to spend time taking a look at Aragorn and Arwen. Thanks for your review!  
  
  
  
Aragorn leaned back in his saddle, trying to stretch his cramped legs. He longed to stop and rest, anything to straighten his legs and walk around. However, that was far from possible. The area of woods that he and Legolas seemed to casually pass through was filled with dark and dangerous things so that Aragorn did not want to stop and play with fate any more than they were by riding through the wood so brazenly. The path itself foretold of the evil that had started to cast a shadow there. It was dark and the trees seemed older than they should have been, gnarled and twisted unnaturally. Little light was able to seep through the upper branches, casting an eerie look about the place. There was a lot of underbrush, but most of it was dead and dry. The only sound the two riders could hear was the sound of the hoof beats coming from their own horses. Neither one had spoken since Aragorn had warned Legolas that less than a year ago he and a host of his Rangers had been attacked at midday by a pack of wargs more fierce than he had ever faced before.  
  
Aragorn turned to glance at Legolas. The fair elf was riding easily and comfortably on his horse. He seemed very aware and attuned to nature in a way that Aragorn realized that he could never be, despite all of his training. Only an elf could see certain things. Aragorn smiled slightly at the realization, glad to have Legolas as his traveling companion. He was curious to know if the elf was not afraid at all of the path Aragorn had chosen.  
  
"Do you regret this Legolas? Traveling in dark places with me?" Aragorn asked, suddenly curious as to what the elf was thinking. Legolas turned to look at the Ranger, his brown eyes shining with mischief.  
  
"I think it curious that to save a piece of time you would subject yourself to such dangerous places," the elf's reply was light and curious, while at the same time seeming to play at some sort of underlying joke that Aragorn seemed to be missing.  
  
"Ah, but you mistake me master elf. It is hardly a small piece of time I am saving our journey. It takes but one day to ride across this wood and four to ride around both ways you would chose."  
  
"What is saving three days if you cannot live the rest of your days because you chose to pass through this place?"  
  
"Legolas, I would not endanger your life if I had not thought myself capable of defending you… I thought you were in agreement that we should travel through this part…" Aragorn was suddenly confused with Legolas' answer to his question.  
  
The elf smiled in a way that reminded Aragorn of the way Elladan and Elrohir smiled at him when they had just gotten him in trouble with Lord Elrond. "Aragorn, now you mistake me. I merely laugh at you as a man, not to be harsh…but in observation. See, I have known very few men, you are one of the first I have talked to at great lengths. I am hardly used to the way you think, despite the fact that I am sure you speak more as an elf than any other man possibly could. To an elf, taking a longer and safer route seems prudent. Unless in true haste, three days is nothing in the eye of an elf that will live for hundreds of years. I oft forget that you are but a man and your life span, though Lord Elrond tells me is longer than that of a normal man, is short in comparison to the years I have lived and have yet to live."  
  
At these observations, Aragorn laughed heartily, a strange sound in the nearly silent place. It was Legolas' turn to be curious as to his reaction.  
  
"Why do you laugh Master Ranger? What have I said that is so funny? I fear I will never understand men."  
  
"Ah, Legolas, you must excuse my behavior. I will tell you only that I laugh not only at you but also at all elves in general. Just as men will never understand your fair race, you elves, wise in all things, will never understand my kin. You are not the first elf to be at a loss as to why I am the way I am. You might have mentioned it in passing to Lord Elrond, or perhaps my brothers…even the Lady Arwen and they would agree. They would all tell you that despite the fact that I was raised by elves, I am as much a mystery as any other Dunedain. Our two races will never understand each other completely."  
  
"Finally I agree with you and this part of your thought I do understand," Legolas smiled at Aragorn. "And no, I do not regret traveling with you. Never have I heard such stories as you tell, perhaps only in tales told by my brothers. Elladan and Elrohir warned me it is dangerous to travel in your company, though I was willing to believe them, I merely wondered just how dangerous."  
  
"They are hardly truthful elves," Aragorn said with a slight laugh. "I am a very safe traveling companion."  
  
"Now I think it you who are being not quite honest." Both elf and man laughed quietly. Aragorn sighed as if tired, but moments later his body had stiffened and he was sitting up straight as he could in his saddle. "I heard it too," Legolas said, glancing around.  
  
"Horses," Aragorn said simply, halting Evaria in mid step. She tried to move again, but he reigned her in and held her tightly. "They are moving very slowly, at a mere walk…"  
  
"Who would travel through these woods?"  
  
"Like I told you before, the trip around the wood is quite long and nearly as treacherous. Many merchants travel this path at great risk, though I admit that few have openly been attacked. We should get off the path," Aragorn said, glancing around. He looked at Legolas, who seemed uneasy about moving into the dark and dead woods.  
  
"Is that wise?"  
  
"I leave it to you Legolas, we can stay on the path and pass whoever approaches. It may be a merchant on his way to the next village. However, it may be the evil men who live in this wood and attack the wayfarers. What think you?"  
  
"How many horses?"  
  
"Perhaps four or five."  
  
"Are you afraid Aragorn?"  
  
"No. We'll stay on the path. Stay close behind me and keep a tight hold on your horse," the Ranger nodded at Legolas, then whispered reassuringly in elvish to Evaria. Aragorn suddenly had a chilled feeling reminding him of the last time he had detected horses riding towards him on a path, dark such as this was. "It rains not this day," he told Evaria, more to reassure himself than to reassure her. He released her reign and they started forward again. Legolas rode to Aragorn's right, nearly next to him.  
  
"They've slowed…" Legolas observed, listening keenly.  
  
"Perhaps they have heard us," Aragorn said lightly as they came around a curve on the path. Ahead of them, down a far distance were four horses and on their backs were four riders, dressed in browns, blacks, and grays. They had almost come to a dead stop and were obviously waiting and watching for Aragorn and Legolas.  
  
"I think you are right Aragorn. They have heard our approach," Legolas said, mirthlessly trying to state the obvious. Even from the distance they were at, neither Aragorn nor Legolas could have missed that each rider carried a bow and a sword on a hip. The horses were large gray and black creatures, hardy from travel and use. "Tell me my friend, do you have any idea as to what these riders are?"  
  
"Indeed, I do." 


	16. We Do So With Great Joy

Authors Note: Well, I had to go back and fix this chapter…thanks for pointing that out to me, as you can tell I was in a hurry and didn't proof read ;) My computer crashed while I was writing this chapter and I retrieved most of the document, but I must have re-typed some of it…sorry about the inconvenience. I hope you enjoy the fixed version…lol.  
  
Valin~ Thank you for your review…and yes, Lady Winter does apply to Tycho Celchu's wife….I am very very impressed! If you have some time, I have another story that is a wip and will be updated soon. It is called Winter's Orders…if you are a fan of RS or at least Tycho and Winter. ;)  
  
  
  
Legolas turned to look at Aragorn as he affirmed that he had some sort of idea of who the riders in front of them were. The Ranger's voice had been strangely impassive as he had spoken. Aragorn had not seemed worried or afraid, but neither had he sounded relieved or happy. As Legolas turned to look at his friend, he found that while Aragorn's voice had not betrayed him, his face had. Aragorn was smiling broadly and his eyes seemed light.  
  
"Indeed I do know who they are, Legolas," he repeated himself. "Come." Aragorn kicked Evaria in the side and she started up at a trot again and Legolas, still feeling wary of these newcomers, followed at what he felt was a safe distance behind. He noted that even Evaria seemed pleased to see the riders, for her step was lighter than it had been since they had entered the wood. It seemed still that Alutier was also wary of these riders and Legolas had long ago come to trust the senses of his horse.  
  
The riders stayed where they were, hoods still drawn up over their heads. They made no move to reach for their swords or their bows, but neither did they remove their hoods in greeting. They seemed impassive, as if they were stone. Their horses stirred restlessly, pawing at the ground. When they were within ten feet of the four riders, Aragorn slowed Evaria and she walked towards them with comfort. Legolas stayed where he was, ready for action if there was a need. Aragorn seemed to have no fear of them at all and was soon directly in front of them. The Ranger was smiling broadly and reached out a hand. The rider of the first horse also reached out his hand, and they grasped each other, shaking firmly.  
  
"Methil, I did not expect to meet you on the path," Aragorn's voice was curious and light. Legolas was even more surprised that Aragorn called this man by a name. Apparently he had not been understating the thought when he had told Legolas he knew them.  
  
"Nor did we expect to meet you on the path, but we do so with great joy," the voice of the rider was indeed happy and mostly relieved. The rider drew back his hood to reveal a lean hard face, framed by dirty locks of yellow hair. He wore a long beard and seemed very old to Legolas.  
  
"Halbarad sent us…" a faltering voice said unexpectedly from one of the other horses. Aragorn turned with a smile to the owner of the voice.  
  
"Speak your peace Lancen, you have naught to fear from my companion. This is Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of Mirkwood. Legolas," Aragorn turned to find his friend and Legolas rode forward, feeling safer. "These are my kin…some of the Rangers of the North. This is Methil, Lancen, Havad, and Resiran," as he listed of their names, each Ranger removed his hood. They were all weather beaten men, who seemed to carry great burdens on their shoulders. All were older than Aragorn except for Lancen, who seemed to watch his captain with special interest. Legolas noted the look was one like he often had on his own face while watching his oldest brother in battle before he was yet old enough to use a sword. Legolas had the feeling that he was in the company of some of the bravest men who walked the ground of Middle Earth. Though they were dirty and disheveled from the time they spent away from any sort of civilization, they bore great dignity and honor in their eyes.  
  
"I am honored to meet you, I have never had such a privilege," Legolas' words were laced with humility and truth and it seemed to surprise each of the Rangers, who looked to their Captain for confirmation of his legitimacy. Aragorn smiled at them to give his own testimony of his trust regarding Legolas.  
  
"It is an honor to meet you also…" Havad's voice was rough and gravely, most likely from little use.  
  
"I know little of you, Prince, except to say that you are spoken of because of your skill with your bow," Lancen said, eyeing the bow that Legolas had on his back. Suddenly, his eyes widened, as if he realized that he had just spoken those words aloud. He looked in alarm at Legolas, and then to Aragorn, as if expecting a reproof. Legolas turned to gauge Aragorn's response. Both Lancen and Legolas were relieved to see an amused smile creep onto Aragorn's lips.  
  
"Perhaps you will be able to honor the prince later by bearing witness to his skill, but for now, we should move on, I will not risk your lives by spending any more time in this wood," Aragorn's voice held and edge of command that even Legolas respected. The Rangers nodded in agreement and turned their horses around. They made room for Legolas and Aragorn to ride in between them, with two Rangers on each side. "Halbarad sent you?" Aragorn asked Methil, clearly the leader of the four.  
  
"He was…concerned about you, my Lord," the last part of his sentence, Aragorn's title, was said in a whisper. Legolas could guess that Aragorn preferred that none of the Ranger refer to him in that way, but clearly Methil felt it unfitting the future King of Gondor.  
  
"Did not Lord Elrond's messengers reach you?"  
  
"Indeed they did. Shirken brought us the first news that you were gravely wounded. We held vigil, as it is our custom, and none rested, waiting for more news of your health." Legolas listened in interest as Methil related this to Aragorn. Clearly the Rangers were a society in themselves. Perhaps it was something like the difference between the Rivendell Elves, the Lorien Elves, and the Mirkwood. Perhaps a man was either Gondorian or a Ranger. Legolas realized at that moment how little he knew of men. He knew that men lived in more places than just Gondor, but he had been deeply immersed in elf-lore, not man-lore. In fact, he realized that he had hardly traveled out of the boundaries of Mirkwood, lest it was to go to Rivendell when he was younger. He had only seen Lorien once, and that was when he was but a real elf-child. Surely Aragorn had seen most of Middle Earth.  
  
"You should have not worried yourself on my account," Aragorn's voice held regret.  
  
"That would hardly have been possible," Resiran said with a laugh. "Though I dare not speak of it here, you know who you are and what you represent in Middle Earth and most of all to the Dunedain." Aragorn nodded at Resiran.  
  
"I will try not to argue with you."  
  
"After Shirken rode back to Rivendell, we waited for news, though it seemed long in coming. Finally Elasirn rode to our camp to tell us that you were yet alive and recovering. Lord Elrond bid us be patient to wait for you to recover, then you would return to us bearing your tale."  
  
"If Elasirn brought you word, why then are you riding to Rivendell to find me?" Aragorn was curious, cocking.  
  
"As Methil said, Halbarad was worried…" Havad supplied, glancing at his Captain.  
  
"Halbarad knows you well, as we all do, and we thought that despite a terrible wound, as soon as you could carry your sword you would be on your way back. Halbarad feared it was past time that your impatience would have surfaced and he was concerned something ill had befallen you once more. We set out twelve days ago, and here we are, half way to Rivendell," Resiran added.  
  
"Twelve days ago Legolas and I set out, for I could not…tear myself away sooner. Truth be told, I am not fully healed"  
  
"Well enough to ride though, and ride fast we have," Legolas confirmed. "Strider has been teaching me the way of riding through hard places with great haste."  
  
"A better teacher, you could not have," Havad confirmed, nodding at Legolas.  
  
"Tell me, Prince, why you ride with my Captain?" Lancen asked, gaining a sharp reproving glance from Methil.  
  
"Legolas rides with me because we agreed to travel together as far as Mirkwood. I owe him my life, for he rescued me while I lay dying in the wood," Aragorn supplied the answer for Legolas, and for one of the first times in his life, Legolas felt embarrassed by the praise.  
  
"Yet I was only able to do so because you rescued me, Strider," he reminded the Ranger.  
  
"A mere technicality," Aragorn said with a laugh.  
  
"We owe you much, Master Elf," Methil said gravely. The other Rangers nodded their heads and Legolas turned away, once again unsure of himself. Elves hardly spoke with such emotional thoughts and it was quite a change for him.  
  
"I am only glad to have saved Aragorn, and for that I take only that now we are friends as my reward."  
  
"Yes my friend, you are noble," Aragorn said quietly and patted Legolas on the shoulder. Legolas smiled at him, feeling at last comfortable in the presence of the Rangers. "Come no more talk of dark deeds, tell me how Halbarad fares with his lady," Aragorn turned to the other men who burst into laughter at the mention of the subject.  
  
"What a story it is…" Havad promised. And so they passed through the darkening woods, laughing at the folly of a man in love with a woman. 


	17. Tomorrow We May Be in Mirkwood

Wow. I know it has been some time since I last updated. See the sad truth is that I went home from college and just ran out of time to do anything! I am back at college and as long as I see that there is still some interest in my sad little story, I will keep going! I do like it so far and have much in mind. If you have any suggestions, send them my way. ( Thanks! Hope you enjoy.  
  
Legolas watched Aragorn intently as the Ranger slept. He was tired in a very wonderful way. He had never had an experience like the journey he had just been on. His eyes had been opened to entirely new part of life that thus far had been a mystery to the already well-learned elf. The day had been filled with happy laughter and interesting news as Methil, Lancen, Havad, and Resiran had attempted to share with Aragorn what had transpired since the day of his departure some time ago. Nothing grievous had come to pass, at least nothing that the Rangers felt comfortable enough talking about in front of the elf that traveled with their beloved leader. Most of what they shared were amusing stories of little mishaps, mostly revolving around the family life of the Rangers.  
  
Aragorn had listened keenly and smiled the first genuine smile Legolas had noticed since leaving Rivendell and the company of Arwen. More than anything Legolas observed that Aragorn was entirely at ease with these wardens of the wild. They were a family, this was easy to see.  
  
Time had slipped by so quickly that Legolas could hardly believe when night had began to creep upon them. Aragorn also seemed surprised, but was eager to stop and rest once they had cleared the last trees of the dark forest. Legolas found it curious that the Rangers did not bind their horses to trees, but rather allowed the animals to be free. The horses, for their part, stayed close the encampment, just out of the area where the Rangers had laid their sleeping rolls. Aragorn had questioned Methil as to the safety of the area, asking if things had changed since he had last ridden from there. When he was assured that the area would be safe, a fire was lit and Legolas found himself once again engaged easily in conversation with the men. This time it was a rousing conversation of food and what was to be enjoyed that evening. Resiran was in charge of cooking and humbly apologized once to Legolas that it would be little close to that which a prince deserved. His apologies to Aragorn were also brief, but less formal, as if knowing that Aragorn could hardly have cared.  
  
Legolas could hardly believe that Resiran had apologized at all. The food, though from a simple traveling pack, not unlike the one Legolas had searched through when he had discovered Aragorn, dying in the wood, was exceptionally good. It had been seasoned to perfection.  
  
"Resiran, your meal was more than satisfying!" Legolas had remarked after the meal, drawing a pleased but embarrassed look from the Ranger. Aragorn had remained silent, merely smiling at his men. The Rangers had then prepared their bedrolls and arranged a watch regiment. Aragorn immediately took charge and claimed the first watch, but was heartily admonished by all four of his friends, even Lancen who seemed loathe to bring any sort of displeasure to his captain. They had argued for a few moments, Aragorn claiming that he was fully able to stand watch as he had been for the trip thus far. Legolas had watched with keep interest as they argued, trying not to smile too much. In the end they were all silent, Aragorn glaring at Methil in particular with an angry defeated look. Legolas gave Methil a vast amount of credit for his attempts not to look overly pleased at the fact that they had overridden what Aragorn had to say. Havad had eagerly pointed out to Aragorn that he had admitted earlier he was not up to his usual healthful self and none of them would ever dare to place him in danger. Their pure hearts and clear cries kept him from arguing too much.  
  
Still grumbling, Aragorn had at least demanded that he check the perimeter and this the Rangers assented to as long as Lancen was to accompany him. Once they were gone, Resiran had apologized to Legolas, quickly attempting to explain that they were not trying to order their Captain around at all, but rather that they were trying to protect him from himself. Methil was about to jump in on the defense when Legolas stopped them with a laugh, explaining that they did not have to explain themselves. "Indeed, I am as worried about him as you are. He pretends it does not pain him, but I have seen him struggle to even re-mount Evaria as you will see in the morning. It is nothing serious, or I would have looked into it almost immediately. I believe that he will not be fully healed for some time."  
  
"Are you sure he is all right?" the concern in Havad's voice was heavy and pained as though he expected to hear the worst.  
  
"Strider may be a stubborn man, but, as I have seen surely, he is not stupid," Legolas started to respond.  
  
"That is unless he feels the need to get into a battle with those cursed Nazgul," Resiran interrupted, sighing heavily. "He has no regard for his safety in battle. He takes to many risks."  
  
"Do not speak so," Methil said harshly, then his face softened as he turned to Legolas. "Please, think no ill of us Master Elf. We worry about Strider. He is the hope of our people and there is not much chance for the future if he leaves us prematurely.  
  
"You need not apologize. I have gotten to know this stubborn and heroic man in a short time and I clearly see why you hold such stock in him. He is a wonder in himself. But fear not, for now, as long as not aggravated, his wounds will continue to heal. He needs more rest. If you could convince him to rest once we reach my lands in Mirkwood, even if it was just for a few days, it would do him much good," Legolas smiled warmly at them as the three older Rangers contemplated what he had just impressed upon him.  
  
"That is easier said than done, but we will do our best. We hold much more of a chance if Halbarad grows impatient and sends another party, especially if Cressen is among them," Methil mused quietly. Havad nodded in agreement.  
  
"When we come closer to your borders, I will stay on the main road and if the party comes this way, we will come to Mirkwood, with your permission, Prince," Resiran said slowly and deliberately as was his way.  
  
"Yes, you will have my permission readily. Who is this Cressen?" Legolas asked curiously. Resiran smiled readily, looking as though he had an enjoyable story to tell, but Methil caused him to stop as they all turned to the soft chatter that approached them. Lancen was busy nearly talking Aragorn to death, but as Legolas noted, Aragorn seemed not to care. He listened carefully to the young man, not much older than Aragorn had been when he had first left Rivendell. Havad rose to meet the pair.  
  
"Lancen," Aragorn said the young man's name quietly to keep him from a reproving glance from Havad. "Would you fetch my dagger from my pack?" The boy nodded and hurried to Evaria's side.  
  
Legolas turned to his new friend and arched an eyebrow in curiosity. He knew well that Aragorn's dagger was resting comfortably against his side in its sheath. Aragorn seemed to read his mind and smiled at him happily, a glint of something akin to mischief in his eyes.  
  
While Havad made sure Aragorn was satisfied with the perimeter, Legolas watched in interest as Lancen searched carefully for a dagger that was not there. Finally the young man became frustrated and turned back to his Captain.  
  
"Strider! Your dagger is not in here. Only something bound in cloth and twine," the boy said, perturbed.  
  
"Ah, you are quite right, almost. Open the package Lancen." Lancen shrugged and did as he was told, unwrapping two intricately designed daggers, clearly made in Rivendell. Legolas smiled fondly remembering Elrohir handing Aragorn the small parcel as they rode from the stable in the early morning that they had left Imladris. "They are beautiful! These were made by the elves of Rivendell.no doubt!" Lancen touched each one reverently.  
  
"Well, I hope you do enjoy them. One is for you and the other for Cressen. They are gifts from the elf twins Elladan and Elrohir. Treat them well Lancen and they will serve your honest purposes," Aragorn had come to stand by Lancen as he said this, a smile playing at his lips. Lancen stared at him with huge eyes, then smiled back at Aragorn.  
  
"I suppose thank you will never be enough."  
  
"It is more than enough. Now, as I recall, you have first watch."  
  
"Aye, I do! And thank you Strider!" the youth ran off towards his starting watch post and Aragorn watched him go with a smile.  
  
"Such is the future, Legolas," he said, turning. Legolas nodded and understanding passed between them. They both settled onto the ground, surrounded on both sides by the Rangers. Aragorn laid his dagger across his chest, his sword resting easily by his side. Legolas had found himself watching to follow suit.  
  
"Thank you Strider."  
  
"Do not thank me yet.but tomorrow, perhaps we will be in Mirkwood."  
  
"It will be both a glad and sad day."  
  
"I know," Aragorn whispered the words and Legolas felt as though they understood the way each other felt. They said no more and soon the men were asleep. Legolas had no need of sleep, but rested, watching Aragorn sleep peacefully while Lancen paced, silent as a shadow, on the perimeter of their humble camp.  
  
"Yes, tomorrow we may be in Mirkwood, but I will be less eager to stay as you have shown me what a Ranger really does. I think I may envy you, Aragorn." 


	18. He Means You No Harm!

Authors Note: Here is the next installment. This one is a little choppy. As I wrote this I was having a rather bad day and just couldn't focus on my writing style as much. I wanted to get it out while the idea was still there, so here it is. Hope you like it.. Thanks for all the wonderful reviews!!!! Please continue..  
  
Aragorn awoke in the morning, breathing deeply. The sun was just begging to creep through the tress and the air was still crisp and stung his throat just a little, warning of the onset of winter which was already a short time in coming. Aragorn smiled, happy to be lying out in the elements, enjoying every moment of the dawning morning. It had been some time since he had seen the trees of the area his Rangers normally dwelt in. He lay still without moving at all and watched his breath cloud in front of him as the air cooled it. He could hear Havad moving on the perimeter. Each Ranger made a specific sound, as did each elf. Havad's steps were slightly non-rhythmic, for the Ranger had once sustained a grievous injury from a Goblin and his foot had never healed the right way. Listening intently, Aragorn discovered that Resiran was still sleeping, but he could hear the light steps of Lancen obviously searching for food in the packs. His ears perked when he heard the soft hiss of a fire being started. It seemed that Methil was also up.  
  
Rolling onto his side, Aragorn was curious to see if Legolas was still there.  
  
"Careful!" Legolas observed quickly, speaking in alarm to Aragorn as the Ranger rolled on top of his own sword. The elf had been resting with his eyes half open, as was the elven tradition. Aragorn could see the look of worry and confusion when Aragorn merely laughed.  
  
"You need not fear Legolas, it is quite safe, for it rests at my side all day long. She knows better than to hurt me," Aragorn said lightly, getting to his feet, unscathed by the large blade. He offered a hand to Legolas, who took it. As Aragorn pulled Legolas to his feet, Legolas keenly observed the look of short-lived pain cross Aragorn's strong features. Obviously the Ranger was not healing as quickly as he had anticipated.  
  
Aragorn turned from Legolas after helping him up and touched his chest gently, feeling the fine work of Elrond's stitching even through his heavy tunic. The wound still pained him a great deal, especially when the knitting skin pulled away from the stitches. The stitches themselves would have to come out in time, and Aragorn hoped he would be around others when the time came so he wouldn't have to do it himself. He knew Legolas was staring at his back with concern because it was obvious he had not been able to hide his discomfort from the elf. Elladan and Elrohir had been hard to fool also. The wound itself irritated Aragorn because it prevented him from all his normal movements. He hated the thought of being weak at all. It was something he felt would lead to him making the same type of mistake that Isildur had.  
  
"Aragorn.are you all right?" Legolas' voice was respectfully soft, so that the other Rangers would not hear him. Aragorn appreciated the gesture and turned back to his elven friend.  
  
"I am fine Legolas, do not worry on my account," he said with a smile, hoping that Legolas would believe him fully and drop the subject. Legolas seemed to be gauging his health, and Aragorn turned away uncomfortably and strode over to the fire. Methil was watching him curiously, as if he had no only witnessed the whole event but had also seen what Legolas had seen. Aragorn gave him a soft look of warning to prevent him from saying anything. Methil did not seem to acknowledge him, but neither did he say anything, going back to tending the fire. Lancen hurried over with food, looking glad to see his Captain awake. Aragorn was relieved for the distraction and talked with the young Ranger about the watch. He could feel more than see the light shake of Legolas' head as the elf demonstrated his concern. Aragorn would not be baby-sat.  
  
Aragorn was already much happier when he mounted Evaria and they got underway. He was glad to be among friends and glad that it was yet the whole day before he would have to say goodbye to Legolas. He trusted the elf and the thought of saying goodbye dismayed him. It would be sometime before they were near the borders of Mirkwood. With the company of his men, Aragorn felt safe and relieved. He trusted them and had missed the news from the community from which he had left. It was true that Rangers were solitary people, spending great lengths of time far from and other men, but they also spent a good deal of time together when possible, raising families and living much the same as their relations in Gondor and Rohan did. Isolation was nearly as satisfying as being with ones friends.  
  
The laughter of the small party was quiet and well meant as the five men and one elf passed through the hours of the day. Aragorn rode near the center of the group, Legolas on one side and Lancen on the other. Methil rode a bit ahead of them, and Havad and Resiran rode next to the group. Aragorn was pleased how quickly they had come to trust Legolas. He thought that another strong mark of the elf's character.  
  
"How close are we?" Lancen asked curiously. "I know that I have been on this road before and if my memory is correct, the path leads through part of Mirkwood. Many travel it, which has caused some problems for the Lord of Mirkwood."  
  
"You are correct Lancen," Legolas said softly. "This road does indeed pass through my land and yes, there have been.difficulties in the past."  
  
"We came by the outer road, Strider, but Halbarad told us if he had to send out another party, they would come this way," Methil turned to tell the Ranger. Aragorn nodded, mulling over the information. Halbarad had been worried about him.  
  
"Another party?" he asked curiously.  
  
"Yes, they would be hunting, but if needed could come to join us," Resiran supplied and Aragorn frowned, causing the older Rangers to laugh at him gently.  
  
"You cannot expect him to be idle while you are gone," Havad said with a gravely laugh.  
  
"Indeed, I suppose I cannot. Legolas, have we come into your land?"  
  
"I believe we have passed into it. It won't be long and we will be watched by the guardsmen. They may stop you if they recognize me..." the elf Prince warned.  
  
"I sense something disturbing," Aragorn mumbled, barely hearing his friend's words. He glanced at the deepening woods with concern, a shadow growing in his mind. He watched as Legolas stiffened and his Rangers all placed worn hands on equally worn sword hilts. Aragorn's own hand trailed to his sword resting at his side. The wood had grown uneasily quiet.  
  
"Evil?" Havad asked in a mere whisper. Aragorn glanced at him, unsure how to answer. He felt that something was amiss. Something was creeping towards them. Evaria sidestepped nervously, alerting Aragorn to the fact that he was not alone in sensing whatever it was.  
  
"Wargs!" the shout of warning came from Legolas, whose elven eyes had picked out the creatures just before they were upon them. Aragorn did not have time to count, but the number that came upon them was far greater than a normal pack of the wild and dangerous creatures. The Rangers horses, and even Alutier bucked, threatening to throw their riders. Evaria was the only one who remained with a semblance of calm, but even she was now sidestepping as the wargs bit at her legs. Aragorn knew she stood no chance against them and dismounted and gave her a slap. She fled just as he had hoped she would. The others were doing the same, if for no other reason than to keep from getting thrown and killed.  
  
Now that they were on the ground, the warg attack increased and soon Aragorn's sword was bloody and heavy. They were badly outnumbered and it seemed as though they would not escape unscathed. Aragorn could barely keep tabs on Lancen, the only one he truly worried about. He was sure the others were capable of taking care in their endeavors to beat the foe. Aragorn turned to take care of another warg when one latched onto his arm. He gritted his teeth, trying to shake the beast loose. The warg sunk its teeth in deeper, growling, threatening to break bone. Aragorn drove it into a near-by tree and used his sword to run it through. The wargs seemed to be as thick as ever as he turned back to the fight. Just as he thought they might be in some real trouble, he could hear riders coming up. Through the blur he could make out what appeared to be Rangers. They seemed to be the other party that Havad had mentioned earlier.  
  
Aragorn realized that his moment of distraction was a sore mistake and he found four wargs upon him. They knocked him to the ground as he did his best to fend them off. One of them latched onto the same arm that had been bitten before and Aragorn could hear the sickening crunch of bone. The one that was directly on top of him was pressing uncomfortably on his stitches, tearing them ruthlessly with each small movement. Aragorn managed to loose his dagger and stabbed the one on top of him, only succeeding on angering the others. The pain from the stitches was acute and his vision seemed to haze in and out. He managed to stick the dagger into another, but it moved away limping, carrying Aragorn's dagger away. The pain from his old and healing wounds resurfaced in a brilliant explosion of color in the back of Aragorn's head. He fought to push off the other wargs, but his body screamed in protest.  
  
Aragorn thought that perhaps his destiny had decided to claim him earlier and was preparing for the worst when Legolas came to his rescue. The elf dispatched the two wargs and Aragorn briefly noted that it seemed most of the wargs were gone. Legolas bent over Aragorn and Aragorn offered him a brief smile.  
  
"Seems all you've been doing is saving me," even to himself, his voice sounded rough.  
  
"Please, do not force me to do this often," concern was etched on Legolas' face. As he bent down, dagger in one hand, reaching down to help Aragorn up, a yell echoed through the wood.  
  
"Don't touch him!" A blur of black and brown charged at Legolas, knocking a very surprised elf to the ground. Aragorn struggled to sit up, surprised at the change of events. One of the Rangers had obviously mistake the situation, assuming Legolas was about to try to harm him. It took only mere seconds for Aragorn to recognize the Ranger that was about to try to fight Legolas. Though the pain in his body caused protestation, he knew he had to put a stop to it. Aragorn was almost too late.  
  
From the tress came the wood elves of Mirkwood, for they had been hunting the wargs and now found that their prince, whom they had recognized immediately, was being attacked by a dirty creature intent on some sort of damage. Aragorn's eyes reacted quicker than he would have thought and he spotted a dozen or so bows being pulled back and arrows notched, aimed right at the young Ranger.  
  
"For the love of Elbereth, no!" Aragorn cried in elvish, pushing himself to his feet, just as the first arrows began to fly. He was just in time to pull the young Ranger from Legolas, and the two of them rolled out of harms way into the dirt and leaves. Without any thought to himself, Aragorn covered the Ranger with his body. "Stop! He means you no harm!" The elvish words were spoken in earnest, but as Aragorn looked up, he found the arrows were still pointed at him and his young charge. 


	19. You Have Come Far With Me

Author's Note: Here is the next chapter. Lucky all of you because I put aside my other two work in process stories to add this chapter!! I like it quite a bit, so I hope you do too. Thank you so much for all the glowing reviews, I really appreciate them. It definitely keeps me writing! I am trying hard to continue this and am sure there will be plenty more chapters, and soon! But now I have a whole lot of homework for my college classes that have to be gotten to. Next time I'll hopefully be responding to more of your reviews, so thanks. Tell me what you think!  
  
Legolas was caught off guard when the young man crashed forcefully into him. The elf and the man tumbled away from Aragorn down a slight incline in a mass of tangled arms and legs. In the midst of the chaos, Legolas felt his dagger slip from his grip, falling some place in the dirt and leaves. Legolas managed to get his bearings as they came to a rolling stop and grabbed the arm of his assailant, trying to hold him back from getting the upper position. From the corner of his eye, he saw his father's archers drop form the trees. Suddenly afraid that something was about to go terribly wrong because of an understandable misunderstanding, the elf prince attempted to get a hold on the Ranger who was attacking him. Legolas had to be very careful no to hurt the man, knowing that he had clearly heard the Ranger yell in defense of his captain, Aragorn.  
  
Legolas' superior elven eyesight was quick to puck up on the raising of bows, all aimed at the tenacious Ranger who was no a top of Legolas' chest`, poised to strike if need be. Those long seconds seemed to stretch into a season's passing as Legolas heard Aragorn yell.  
  
"For the love of Elbereth, no!" This caught all of the Rangers' attentions and everyone turned to watch as Aragorn dragged himself off the ground. Legolas could hear the wind whistle as the first arrows sang through the air and time seemed to become motionless. Moments later, Legolas was free of the attacking Ranger as the arrows whipped overhead. Getting to his feet as quickly as he could, he was in time to hear Aragorn's plaintive cry that the Ranger meant the elves no harm. Legolas took in the situation quickly. A dozen of his father's finest archers were spread in the immediate area, half of them having leveled their bows against the other Rangers who had just barely finished fighting off the wargs, and half of them having turned on Aragorn and the other Ranger. Havad, Methil, Lancen, and Resiran had been joined by three other Rangers, all a bit younger than Methil, Havad and Resiran, but obviously older than Aragorn. Their bodies were now taunt and tense, eyes locked onto Aragorn in concern and fury. Observing his friend, Legolas found Aragorn sheltering a much younger Ranger. Aragorn's left arm hung uselessly at his side, blood soaking through his dark tunic. Blood, in a stark diagonal line was also beginning to seep though his tunic on the chest where his stitches had obviously been ripped by the warg attack.  
  
The archers seemed almost as concerned with Aragorn as they were with the young Ranger. He peered out from beneath Aragorn's protective arm and Legolas observed that the Ranger, a mere boy of perhaps sixteen or seventeen year, had black hair, as dark as the mines of Moria, cut short and ragged, close to his head, unlike any of the other Rangers who allowed their hair to grow freely. Legolas was also surprised by the intensity of the deep blue eyes, nearly as intense as Aragorn's nearly elven great eyes. The boy's face was slightly marred by a vivid red scratch, obviously from a clash with a warg, bleeding freely down his cheek.  
  
Legolas' mind was moving quicker than he would have liked. Clearly, the young Ranger that had attacked him had been only defending Aragorn, whom he obviously thought had been in danger, most likely because of the way Legolas had been holding his dagger. Now, his fellow elves, friends since childhood thought they were protecting their Prince, but were unknowingly threatening not only a precarious balance between elves and men, but the entire future of Middle Earth. Six arrows were trained on the future King of Gondor.  
  
The delicate balance that existed in those few seconds where every creature represented there was confused was soon broken when Lancen took a step forward, anger and worry passing over his young face. A bow twanged and Legolas mentally cursed while his heart nearly stopped, crying out for mercy.  
  
"No!" Aragorn's voice sounded empty and far away as he cried out in elvish and Legolas could feel the anguish of his friend. Fate was feeling particularly generous that day though, and Resiran was in time to pull Lancen back in one swift movement and the arrow passed by Lancen's face by inches, harmlessly flying by.  
  
Legolas knew that he had to put a stop to the misunderstanding before someone really got hurt. He noted that the Rangers were all reaching for their swords and he pushed his shocked mind into action.  
  
"Stop!" he cried, finally having found his voice. He brushed leaves and dirt off of his tunic as he stepped between his archers and where Aragorn still remained on the ground, still sheltering the other Ranger. Legolas was relieved as the confused archers lowered their bows and bowed low to the ground out of respect for him.  
  
"My lord! Are you all right?" Thelian, a distant cousin of Legolas' approached the Prince, concern and confusion etched on his normally soft features. Legolas could tell that he was eyeing the Rangers with suspicion. Legolas was debating on how to answer in the least confusing way as he heard Aragorn's soft communication to his men to put their weapons away and keep them that way. The other elves obviously heard also and Legolas watched them tense up, marking Aragorn as the leader of the intruders.  
  
"I am fine. There's been a misunderstanding. You have naught to fear from these men, they are Rangers of the North and I was traveling in their company," Legolas explained slowly, gesturing to where Aragorn still sat on the ground. The pale look of Aragorn's skin worried him, but he also noted that while Aragorn had ordered his men to put their weapons away, neither he nor the young boy with him had made any step to sheath their swords.  
  
"That one attacked you! Should we put him down?" another of the elves asked, pointing at the Ranger with the dark hair. Legolas could literally see Aragorn's whole demeanor change from peaceful to angry as the elf spoke of one of his men like he was merely an animal. Legolas shuddered inside. Aragorn could not hate him now, it would ruin what friendship they had already formed.  
  
"No! And you will not talk of these men in that manner again! They are as noble as any elf, and so speaking I give them free passage to our home," Legolas said pointedly, making sure they understood it was an order. He could see the confusion and disbelief that spread across the face of his friends. "Yes, that one did attack me, and he did mean harm, but it was a misunderstanding. He thought I was attacking his captain."  
  
"Legolas," Thelian's voice was soft as he approached the Prince. "You hardly need to explain yourself to your subjects. I believe that these men have helped your father before. Is that not Strider?"  
  
"Yes, it is, and he would benefit from seeing the healers," Legolas said slowly, nodding at the gentle reminder. Indeed, he was a Prince, but Legolas often forgot that with the title came certain privileges.  
  
"Then we should escort you back to the palace. The King has been very worried about you since your disappearance. The messenger from Lord Elrond assured us that you were well, but it is not like your father to be understanding, and you know he is not always trusting of the Lord of Imladris," Thelian trailed off, suddenly looking uncertain. Legolas turned to find the young Ranger helping Aragorn to his feet. With the boy's help, Aragorn made his way over, trying to hide his discomfort. He stood stiffly in front of the elves, his Rangers slowly coming to stand behind him.  
  
"Legolas, you should accompany your," here Aragorn paused glancing at the elves in an unreadable way, " - archers - back to your home. You have come far with me and until this time it had been pleasant. My men and I will be returning to our home, but we will take the outer road, so as not to pass through your wood any longer."  
  
Legolas noted with growing dismay how it must have sounded to Aragorn as he and his men had been talking. Elves of all kinds were quick to jump to the conclusion that elves in all ways were superior to men and Legolas knew that Aragorn above all other men had to feel the sting of such a thought. Glancing at his men, Legolas found that they were surprised that the man spoke elvish and even more surprised, realizing that Aragorn could understand every word that they had already spoken.  
  
"No.Strider, you promised me that you would accompany me as far as my home and you are wounded," Legolas gently touched Aragorn's arm and the man drew back with a slight hiss of pain. "Come, let your men rest and I also know that you have a message to deliver to my father." Legolas watched curiously as Aragorn thought things over. His men, though entirely in the dark about what was being said, stood behind Aragorn, looking very trusting. The young Ranger who had attacked him seemed to be listening carefully and looked at Aragorn as if he had understood and Legolas briefly wondered if the boy had been taught elvish. While he was waiting for Aragorn to speak, he noted that Lancen curiously reached out and touched the younger Ranger on the shoulder, as if to make sure he was ok. As the young Ranger turned to face Lancen, they both smiled and Legolas realized that they must have been brothers.  
  
"Legolas, I am not sure." Aragorn hesitated, glancing purposefully at the younger Ranger then back to Legolas. The elf understood immediately.  
  
"You will be completely safe, I promise." Legolas held his breath. He hated for them to part this way, with Aragorn angry and their bond of trust and friendship frayed. If he could just talk to the stubborn Ranger alone, he could right things. Aragorn seemed to think some more and the young Ranger sighed impatiently.  
  
"Strider, you are hurt and it will not wait. I will apologize for my behavior and all will be well," the boy spoke suddenly, in elvish and very softly directly to Aragorn. The older Ranger smiled at the boy then turned to Legolas.  
  
"I assume you heard him?"  
  
Legolas shook his head that he had indeed heard the young man and was about to speak when the boy stepped forward, causing all of the elves to reach for their bows. Paying no attention to them, the young Ranger bowed low to the ground, then straitened his thin body.  
  
"My lord, Prince of Mirkwood, please forgive my trespass. 'Twas an honest mistake, m'lord and I would not fell well until you would understand such," the true honesty and simplicity of the words struck Legolas, surprised at how much the boy reminded him of Aragorn.  
  
"You are quite forgiven, now let us return to the path before more wargs come upon us, it is not much farther to the path that will lead us to my home." Legolas patted the boy on the shoulder and hurried to get them moving. "Thelian, we will be all right. You and your scouts should return to your duty." Without question, the elves obeyed and instantly melted back into the wood, leaving only a lingering suspicious glance, directed at Aragorn and the young Ranger who was standing beside him. "Now, I beg to at least know your name."  
  
"His name is Cressen," Aragorn said, switching from elvish to the common tongue for the sake of the other Rangers.  
  
"Well met Cressen, I would not meet you in battle," Legolas said with a laugh.  
  
"And I would also not meet you!" The boy said with a light laugh that brought even a smile to Aragorn's face. 


	20. By Elbereth! You Are Not fine!

Woohoo! Chapter 20! I'm very happy with myself. This chapter is a little wordy to warn you, much of Aragorn's philosophical thoughts.probably stemming from the fact that I'm taking Philosophical Ethics. The end is more exciting probably, and borne out of a really bad night that I felt I needed to make happier. Hope it worked. Ok, so for real I'm actually going to respond to you guys this time because you've been so faithful to review my story. Thank you all so much! Tell me what you think about this chapter!  
  
Arabella Thorne - Thank you so much for your encouragement. I am glad to know that my characterizations have come out to be as much like Aragorn and Legolas as possible. Your praise means a lot to me. I hope you keep reading (  
  
Arabiasil - I'm glad you've been following the story. Yes, classes do keep my very busy, but as long as you all like the story, I will not abandon it. God Bless you too.  
  
Jay of Lasgalen - Thank you for the constructive criticism. While I love writing, I was an attrocious speller from an early age. If you would like to be my beta reader, that would be wonderful, you can start on the next chapter if you wish! Email me at shellpep3@aol.com if you are up for it.  
  
Estelcontar - Alas, I toyed with the idea of making Cressen a girl, but was frightened that I would have people jumping all over me for creating some sort of "mary sue", which is not at all what I intended, especially afte what I wrote concerning Arwen. I did however want to take a closer look at the life of the Rangers and make Aragorn's relationship with them seem more in depth and tight.  
  
Annakas - Thanks for the review! I promise I'll keep going!  
  
Lasse-Lanta - Thank you for your reviews, they bring a smile to my face. Never fear, Thranduil makes his grand appearance next chapter, though I'm not quite sure exactly how I will have his reaction to be, so we are both in suspence!  
  
Thanks again!!!! Sorry if I missed anyone.  
  
  
  
The wind blew harshly through the trees and the leaves, turned golden in the changing of the season, fluttered in the onslaught, many of them dropping from the trees to litter the ground. Aragorn, leaning heavily against Evaria's strong neck, looked on with quiet admiration of the way nature worked. The Ranger felt unduly tired and would have sighed in exhaustion were it not for the company he kept. Directly to his right was Legolas who was riding straight and tall on the back of his horse Alutier. The elf's eyes were scanning to woods in front of them as they rode. To Aragorn's left was Resiran, who seemed to be keeping a watchful eye on Aragorn and it was plain to see that the Ranger was concerned for his captain. Havad and Shalen, one of the Rangers who had arrived in time to help fight off the wargs, rode in front, having taken the lead long before. Aragorn turned to look over his shoulder, noting that Lancen and Cressen, the two brothers, rode side by side, chatting quietly as if they had been apart for months. Behind the two boys were the two other Rangers, Hebran and Dorlien and also Methil. They seemed to be keeping up a stony watch of the rear.  
  
Aragorn turned his attention back to his own position, shifting uncomfortably in the saddle. The results of the quick movement were enough to draw a sharp breath from the Ranger, causing Legolas to look at him for the first time since they had mounted their steeds. Aragorn cursed silently and the stitches that pulled at his now re-opened wound. Though he had no intention of admitting it, Legolas had been right, he needed medical attention. The Ranger glanced at his left arm, hanging limply at his side and frowned in frustration. He felt helpless, holding Evaria's reigns with his good right hand and surrounded by his men as if he could not take care of himself.  
  
The issue had flared when they had moved to continue their journey. The elves had left and Aragorn had been sorely tempted to leave then also, and not to continue on to Mirkwood. The indifference of the elves to his men had angered and unsettled the wise Ranger and he was afraid of more conflict were he and his men to continue on to Mirkwood, especially after what had transpired when Cressen had unknowingly attacked Legolas. Aragorn would not risk Cressen's life, he had gone through too much to save it earlier in the boy's life and it was pointless to throw that away. Still, he had promised Legolas that he would escort the elf to Mirkwood and he did have a message from his father for the King of Mirkwood. The issue of the damage done to his body had been moot in his opinion until he had tried to mount Evaria. There had been many a time when he was forced to mount one handed, in times where a sword in his hand was more important than the ease of mounting his steed. However, there had not been a time when his body had been injured in the way the open and torn stitches of the healing wound were. He had involuntarily let out a grunt of pain as he tried to mount, causing him to instantly be surrounded by his Rangers, Legolas peering at him in a most concerned way from the sidelines. Cressen had been the first one to demand that Aragorn release his stubborn pride and allow help in mounting. It was then that Aragorn realized that he did indeed need some sort of medical relief were he to make it back to the Ranger outpost without further risk to himself or his men.  
  
With great trepidation, Aragorn had reluctantly accepted help. There would be no point in arguing, especially since Cressen would not press on until he knew that Aragorn would be all right. The boy's tenacity was irritating to Aragorn, but he would not argue. He could not help but smile as he and Lancen had embraced, for they were very close. He had observed them secretly as Lancen had given Cressen the dagger that Elrohir had not so long ago given into Aragorn's care for him to do as he wished. Aragorn had no doubt that Elrohir knew exactly what his younger brother Estel had in mind for the ornate weapons. The two boys were very special to Aragorn.  
  
As they had continued on their journey, Aragorn had felt that a small rift had grown between Legolas and himself. It was hard for the Ranger to let down his guard now, especially entertaining the thoughts of more wargs and the danger of the elves, whom should have been his allies. He knew that Legolas realized that and he also knew that their minds ran alike, both trying to discover how to reach some sort of way to get through the impasse that they had come to. Legolas had watched as his people had shown their true colors towards the Rangers. Aragorn had watched as his men had been placed in danger. There had to be words to say. Aragorn knew well that he would have to not only apologize for Cressen's behavior, but he would also be called upon to forgive the elven archers for their harsh words. No one would officially ask him to do this, though Legolas was likely to take the time to try. The elf was obviously shocked at what had transpired and was entirely unsure what he should do to try to fix the damage that had been done. Deep inside of him, Aragorn knew that he should try to help the Prince with this. A deep sense of moral justice told him that he should merely let the issue go, falling from sight as the leaves on this day did. However, that would not take into account the danger Aragorn and his men would face when arriving in Mirkwood.  
  
Aragorn, a student of the ways of Middle Earth knew well that no two clans of men were alike. The Gondorians were entirely different from the horsemen of Rohan, and neither of them would come close to the ways of the remaining Numenor, the Rangers of the North. He was also aware that the elves could not be placed in the same categories. The wood elves were totally unlike the elves of Imladris. Even there in Imladris, tolerance towards men was short, evidence in being when the heir of Isildur had been teased and had his ears pulled on as a child because he was Edain and not elven. Their acceptance of men though was much higher than the elves of Mirkwood. Aragorn, with great understanding and wisdom, knew that the reasons were good, the men of the area often causing trouble on the elven border. Still, the elves did not even trust the Rangers, who served to keep the peace. Thranduil was a stern and unyielding elf lord who was clear that he would prefer and age where men were far less powerful. Through persuasion, the elf lord had been forced in a way to ally with the Rangers for their help. He was not entirely intolerant and trusted Aragorn with much. Though Thranduil and Elrond rarely agreed on most things, the two lords respected each other and Thranduil had accepted Aragorn as the coming King and a Ranger to be trusted readily. He was less accepting of Aragorn's men, but some he held in high esteem, such as Halbarad and Methil. The rest he kept a wary eye on, using his archers to make sure that no trouble would be caused.  
  
For this reason alone, Aragorn thought ill of traveling with so many of his men into Thranduil's home, but Legolas left him little choice. The elf was stubborn if nothing else. It was a trait that Aragorn had come to respect in him. Therefore, he trusted the elf. He just wasn't ready to tell Legolas that as of yet. Let the elf sweat it out.  
  
Their silence had stretched on for hours as they had traveled, and it was a strange silence between these new friends. Aragorn felt uneasy about it, but felt it necessary. He was not a man to be toyed with. It wasn't in his nature. Isildur had never yielded, and while Aragorn surely would have wished it otherwise when it came to the unspeakable ring, he could not help the blood that ran through his veins. Therefore, Legolas would have to be the one to broach the subject of the altercation between Cressen and the archers.  
  
Beside Aragorn, Legolas cleared his throat and looked point blank at the Ranger. Aragorn could feel Legolas' eyes assessing him.  
  
"Aragorn, it is not much further.are you in much pain?" These were the first words Legolas had spoken to Aragorn since an initial concern at the pained look that Aragorn had adopted while mounting Evaria. Aragorn was silent for a moment, trying to decide how to answer Legolas.  
  
"I'm fine," the statement Aragorn made was gut reaction and the answer he was always most likely to give. He turned to look at the Prince and almost laughed. Legolas was practically glaring at him in unbelief. It took all of his anger at the earlier situation to keep from smiling.  
  
"By Elbereth! You are not fine! You have not lifted your arm to even let Resiran look at it and it hangs, bleeding by your side, as if it is dead. I have been watching you for nigh on the last two hours and slowly you have been leaning more and more on Evaria as you twitch in pain. I see your hand shake Strider! You cannot fool the eyesight of an elf! And I am not blind to the fact that even your cloak has begun to soak with blood from your open stitches," Legolas' tirade consisted of pent up anger at the situation and his frustration. Once the words had left his mouth, he looked stunned, as if shocked that he had spoken such things. His eyes widened a bit as if expecting some sort of backlash from Aragorn.  
  
The Rangers were also stunned as their speech stopped and they stared at Legolas, who had plainly spoken in the common tongue. Their eyes moved from the elf to their leader, to see exactly what his reaction would be. With all eyes on him, Aragorn knew he had to temper himself. In truth, his first reaction was to laugh. It was more than comical that Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood, had lost his cool due to a stubborn human. What was more rewarding though, was that Legolas sounded like Aragorn's beloved brothers when their exasperation had turned to fear and worry. Elladan and Elrohir had also been corrupted by emotions most elves thought should be more reserved. Aragorn knew that the men expected him to be angry, or at least diplomatically cold. But, what Aragorn had always tried to impress upon each creature that he met was one fact, there was nothing predictable about his behavior. He did not grow angry, and he did not laugh. Instead, he shrugged as best he could and nodded slowly.  
  
"Aye, you are right," his voice was softly comical as he turned his attention from Legolas and his men to the road before him. He could practically hear Legolas almost start to defend himself when the elf realized that Aragorn had not reproved him.  
  
"I am right?" He sounded confused, almost as if he thought the clever Ranger was trying to trick him.  
  
"Yes Legolas, you are right. My arm is broken and it hurts at the smallest movement. I fear even to wrap it to stop the bleeding. I hope your father has a master healer on hand, or I shall be forced to entrust my care to Cressen, and he is hardly trained." Aragorn turned to face Legolas, knowing his face displayed his honesty. Legolas stared back at him, then looked back at the boy called Cressen who was watching with huge eyes.  
  
"I can assure you that my father has the finest healers aside from perhaps Mithrandir and Lord Elrond, and perhaps yourself is what I have heard is true." Legolas spoke hesitantly, still apparently expecting Aragorn to pull something fast on him.  
  
"Well then, I should not worry. I feel we will soon be in your gates then, Lord of Mirkwood, and there I will be relieved of my pain." As Aragorn said this, the company came around a turn in the road to see large gates made of the finest wood, carved ornately as only elves could carve. Royal guards awaited their arrival, obviously having been forewarned of the coming of the Prince by the scouting party. They looked warily at the Rangers, but relieved to see Legolas. Aragorn noted that they seemed to have complete trust in their Prince. As it should have been. Aragorn turned to look at Legolas again and smiled this time, obviously putting the elf at ease. "I pray we are in your good hands, my friend." He knew that his words carried great weight and this pleased him, especially when Legolas smiled back.  
  
"You have my word," Legolas said with a gentle smile, leaning closer to Aragorn, "son of Arathorn." At that, Aragorn knew that for a time, he could rest at ease. 


	21. For That I am in Your Debt

Finally here is Chapter 21! I am very sorry for the delay. I had a bit of social trouble here at school.which resulted in me becoming sick.and well, the rest is history, but I took my vacation to heart and relaxed and finished off this chapter. I just have a huge THANK YOU to Jay for being my beta reader and dealing with the barrier of my Americanese as compared to that good English ;) Read on and tell me what you think (  
  
Arabiasil - Thanks again for the review! I think sometimes some fics make Legolas more than perfect and I like him better with a few flaws, it makes him more likeable. As for the Mirkwood elves.eventually I'm sure there will be a peace, but where would I get my tension from? ;)  
  
Waterfall - Thank you so much for all your reviews! Wow! I'm blown away! Thanks for all the encouraging comments. I contemplated having Aragorn take a turn for the worse, we'll see. I'm not quite sure where the next chapter is going.but I'm sure you'll find out soon!  
  
Estelcontar - Thanks for the kind words. I really did imagine Cressen first a girl, but with the nature of the close relationship I wanted to have he and Aragorn share, I figured it was better if he was a boy. Besides, I am quite unsure of whether there were female Rangers.maybe I should catch up with my Tolkein lore ;)  
  
Gwyndolen Rhionne - Here is another chapter for you ( Hope you like it!  
  
Lasse-Lanta - Thanks for encouraging me about the titles of the chapters, that is something I decided to stick to when people told me they like it ( Now that I've passed a midterm and gotten past the boy issues.things should be smoother  
  
Arabella Thorne - Thanks for the encouragement. I don't think any friendship is without its bumps and bruises as I have discovered these past few weeks. I know it can all be repaired though.  
  
Annakas - Hope you enjoy Legolas' POV of the situation and how deeply they get in with the elves ;)  
  
Legolas could not shake the feeling of confusion as he stared, perplexed, at the Ranger beside him. Aragorn was indeed unreadable. Just when the elf was sure that he had figured out exactly what the Ranger was thinking, the man was apt to change entirely. This caused the elf prince to want to take Aragorn by the ear and teach him a lesson as would be done with any petulant elf child. But Aragorn was no child and he was also most certainly not an elf, despite the way he had been raised. Legolas had to quell his rising frustration. No matter how kind the man, the irritation still remained. Aragorn had seemingly beat him once again at a game Legolas had not even been aware that they were playing. It was very much something Elladan and Elrohir would do. Aragorn even managed to distract him to the point where Aragorn was the first to realize that they were upon Thranduil's gates.  
  
Legolas turned on his friend, seeing a pleased look on the Ranger's face, obviously only pleased with his own antics. He wanted to be reproachful and beat the man at his own game, but Aragorn would not allow any further breach in friendship.  
  
"I pray we are in your good hands, my friend." Aragorn's voice, soft as it was, carried a great weight in it. Legolas realized for the first time how worried Aragorn really was, despite the calm façade that he put up. Legolas purposefully caught Aragorn's eye, wishing more than anything else to put his friend at ease.  
  
"You have my word son of Arathorn," Legolas whispered, leaning forward and close to Aragorn. He spoke in nearly a whisper so that no other would hear the words that passed and he smiled to convince Aragorn. When Aragorn smiled encouragingly back and nodded stiffly in ease of his wounds, Legolas felt strangely relieved. He was glad that Aragorn trusted him. Legolas knew now he would have to turn his attention from the Rangers to his own people. Havad and Shalen had fallen back to ride next to Aragorn and the following Rangers had all seemed to grow very close to each other. Despite the difficulty, Legolas noted that Aragorn took care to sit straight up in his saddle, hand resting unobtrusively near his side. Any smart elf or man would know that he needed precious few moments to remove the sword that was there.  
  
There were many archers waiting at the gate for them and they looked uncertain at first, but when they turned their gaze on Legolas, the elf prince readily felt not only their affection, but their trust and absolute loyalty. They would do whatever Legolas bid them. The Rangers soon stopped their horses not too far from the tense elves. Legolas was now certain that word of the altercation in the wood had long since gone before them. He rode forward, out of the company of Rangers, and stopped a few feet from Leresian, the elf in charge of the gate.  
  
"My Lord," the elf bowed deeply, his hand brushing the ground. He was a trusted friend of Legolas' and the prince nodded his head in recognition.  
  
"Hello Leresian, I bid you open the gate so that I may pass. I bring with me a company of Rangers." Legolas said the words slowly, waiting for the reaction he was bound to receive. He could sense, more than see, Aragorn tense in his seat. The elves did not have their bows at the ready, but Legolas could see them watching the Rangers intently. The air was thick with an unseen tension.  
  
"Aye, my Lord, we have been informed of your arrival. Your father awaits you in the festival hall. He left sincere word that you join him immediately with the Rangers as soon as you have arrived," the elf spoke clearly, but Legolas knew that there was more. There had been too much hesitation.  
  
"Very well, open the gates then. It is good to be back in Mirkwood."  
  
"My Lord, there is something more." Leresian spoke in a way that made Legolas believe that his friend did not wish to stir up trouble.  
  
"What is it?" Legolas asked, startled slightly as he turned to find Aragorn had ridden to his side, unchecked by the elves, who seemed to hold a healthy fear of the imposing Ranger.  
  
"King Thranduil bids that the Rangers leave their weapons in the care of the guard, for he commands that no Man shall carry his weapon in the boundaries of the King's palace." The elf stepped back, as if expecting the reprove that was no doubt coming.  
  
Legolas hesitated, unsure of what he should say. Certainly Aragorn would put up a fight, there was no way the Ranger would hand over the sword he carried, let alone the bow on his back. However, he could not go against his father's command. The wise elf turned to look at Aragorn, who sat completely still in Evaria's saddle. Whatever decision the elf came to would make or break part of the relationship that the elves had with the brave Rangers, who did more for Mirkwood than many an elf ever did. But beyond even that he feared the damage this could do to his new friendship.  
  
"Strider?" Legolas turned to the stoic heir of Isildur who seemed to be staring off into the woods. Legolas could tell that his elves were alarmed and surprised that Legolas had turned to the Ranger, whom they clearly thought to be below their Prince. Aragorn's alert gray eyes turned quickly to rest on Legolas. The prince fought an urge to turn away from the clear depths that screamed of nobility and betrayed the injustice of the situation. Legolas waited patiently as he watched the Ranger's jaw twitch as Aragorn fought to find the right words to say.  
  
"Prince," Aragorn started slowly and Legolas felt as if he should recoil from the sound of the formal title rolling off Aragorn's own noble tongue. Still, he held the Ranger's gaze. "My men will do as you bid, but their swords will be relinquished not to your guards, but to me, and I will leave them with my horse in the stables. However, Anundril will not leave my side. Narsil never left Elendil's side until one fateful moment, and it was when Elendil had breathed his last. I will not make that mistake. These are my terms. Accepted or not, the King has long allowed me to enter his presence with more than my sword on my person. I will remind him of that if need be." Aragorn's voice was strong and clear and it held a tone that Legolas had only heard once before, when the Ranger had defended Cressen from the elves a few hours before. The words were precise, but they were not demanding, and they were not degrading or inappropriate for the leader of the Rangers of the North to speak to the Prince of Mirkwood. Legolas was amazed at Aragorn's ability to alter his personality so easily. Seeing that there would be no arguing with Aragorn, even the elven guards had seemed to relax. They were most likely more afraid of Aragorn than his men, but there was also the chance that they had seen the Ranger before in Mirkwood, and known him to be trustworthy.  
  
"And you give your word that you will respect your own honor while you are within my father's borders?" Legolas asked the question more to show his warriors that he was in no way betraying them or placing his father in any danger.  
  
"I do, my Lord," Aragorn was careful to use the term of respect in front of Legolas' warriors. Legolas watched as Aragorn, without another word, reined Evaria around with his good hand and bid in the common tongue that his men give him their swords. Legolas could not tear his sight from the men who trustingly handed over their beloved swords, bows, and knives to their captain without even a look of doubt or anger.  
  
"My Prince, your father awaits," Leresian reminded gently, and Legolas nodded to him. He started towards the gate as it was pulled open by the elves. He glanced over his shoulder to see the Rangers follow in a single line, each watching keenly. Soon enough, Legolas led them to the royal stables where the Rangers dismounted, Havad and Cressen immediately at Aragorn's side to help their leader down. Legolas watched in concern as a wave of dizziness passed over Aragorn. He gasped in pain as he jostled his broken arm and the Rangers looked on in worry as he was steadied.  
  
"He needs to see the healers," Cressen turned in urgency to Legolas. There was fear in the young boy's eyes and Legolas could not help but feel his heart wrench. He was more than worried about Aragorn. Clearly the show of stubbornness at the gate had taken its toll on the Ranger.  
  
"Hush, Cressen. I will be fine in a moment. Thranduil awaits and he will not be kept waiting, the Prince knows this. We must attend the King first," Aragorn said, strength and command still evident in his voice.  
  
"Strider, you should see the healers immediately, your men are correct," Legolas started to speak, moving close to his friend, but Aragorn waved him back as he pushed Lancen away.  
  
"Legolas, you know as well as I that we may not even be allowed to remain within the confines of the palace. Your father must rule. By now he has heard of what happened in the wood and he will have words to say. I will not put my men in any danger for my own well being. I will have to plead our case to the King, I suspect, and he will not be happy until I do."  
  
Legolas stood and stared at Aragorn for a moment. His friend spoke with wisdom, but more importantly, truth. Aragorn knew the workings of elven society and Legolas had not thought past arriving safely to his home. Surely, Thranduil would accept Aragorn here, but his men may cause some sort of problem, especially if Cressen had been identified. No doubt, Aragorn was right. Legolas had been so worried about his friend that he had bypassed the thought.  
  
"Yes, you're right. Come, we should go to him quickly."  
  
Legolas turned from the Rangers and led them out, knowing that they were unhappy with Aragorn's decision. They followed Aragorn at a slight distance, showing the respect they owed their leader in a place where eyes were undoubtedly watching for any sign of something out of place. Aragorn, for his part, walked respectfully a few feet back, and to Legolas' right, to show that he knew who had superiority in that place.  
  
Soon enough they had entered into the festival hall where Thranduil was meeting with the elders of Mirkwood. Both parties froze in place and Legolas waited to be summoned. His father stood and motioned for both him and the Rangers to enter. Legolas could plainly see the relief in his father's eyes. Thranduil was glad to see his son. His face became wary as the King took in not only Aragorn, but also the Rangers that trailed behind him. Legolas could only imagine that they made quite a sight, certainly dirty, dishevelled, and even bloody from the battle.  
  
Legolas turned slightly to give his friend a reassuring smile and Aragorn smiled back as the prince of Mirkwood realized that once again, Aragorn had changed. Next to him no longer stood a dirty, tired, and gravely hurt Ranger, but instead there stood a stately young man, likened to his ancestors, worthy of the title of elven prince, but better yet, he looked as if he could ascend the throne of Gondor in a leap. His eyes betrayed wisdom and calm, and above all, he seemed equal in every way to even the King of Mirkwood at that very moment.  
  
Legolas turned back to his father, his awe showing in his eyes and it was not unobserved by Thranduil, who chose to ignore it for a moment and drew his youngest son into a hearty embrace.  
  
"It is good to have you home my son," Thranduil hesitated a moment, his voice growing almost thick, "We had thought that you - that you had forever gone from us. I must know how you were able to escape. Lord Elrond sent only a short message to tell us that you lived and were safe in Rivendell."  
  
"Father, I too am glad to be home, more glad to see you than I could ever tell you. I will indeed tell you how I escaped. I was given complete aid by Strider, Ranger of the North, and he has escorted me back here," Legolas said the words slowly, turning to smile once again at Aragorn. Aragorn nodded in respect to Legolas, then did his best to bow in respect to Thranduil. His men were quick to help him to stand again as he shook them off. Thranduil looked troubled at this and Legolas felt anger creep into his mind, but he pushed it away. Surely he could make his father understand that the Rangers were of no threat.  
  
"Always outsiders with you," Thranduil said quietly to Legolas, but it was not harsh. He turned once again to Aragorn, looking strangely tired and untrusting of the man. "Estel, it has not been that many days since you last passed through my gates, yet you are always seeking trouble, no? Ah, do not become upset young Ranger. I owe you many thanks. For that, I am in your debt." 


	22. I Believe You Son of Elrond

Look! The next chapter! Hehe. Sorry it took so long to get it out to you guys. Its been done for a while but I just haven't been there yet to get it posted. Its scheduling time here at college and that's a rough time of the year. Anyway, there is a section in this chapter where I describe Aragorn's wounds - I hope it isn't to graphic for anyone! Thanks to Jay again for a great job betaing. Thank you so much! Tell me what ya'll think!  
  
Annakas - Better that you did not find the story until now because now the update is fast and coming! Here we go, Aragorn will have his arm addressed in this chapter, so read on! Thanks for the review!  
  
Estelcontar - Thanks again for your encouraging words. I am glad to have made Cressen a boy and hopefully in the upcoming chapter we will see more of how they are close and a little bit of their past, perhaps Legolas will receive more of an insight into Aragorn.  
  
Waterfall - Thanks for the glowing review. I really like to pay attention to detail as much as possible. I do not have a website off hand, but I will try to find one for you!  
  
Valin - You are sweet to commend my writing. So here is another chapter for you! Hope you enjoy.  
  
Lasse-Lanta - Thanks for the encouragement. Yes, I did not want to make Thranduil a jerk, but I don't want him entirely likeable. My impression of him is a good father with a good heart, but protective of his kingdom and distrustful of men. Hopefully it comes across that way!  
  
Enigma Jade and Carrie - Thanks for your reviews! I hope this chapter meets your expectations!  
  
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Aragorn stood completely still as Thranduil looked him over. The old elf made Aragorn nearly as nervous as Elrond did. It was a different sort of nervousness, but Aragorn still felt uneasy. He knew well that King Thranduil was unhappy to see him and it made him even more uneasy that Legolas apparently agreed with his father. Thranduil had always been reluctant when it came to dealings with the likes of men. Thranduil and Elrond had often come to blows over this, especially regarding the men that called themselves Rangers and the certain Ranger that Elrond had accepted as a foster son. Elrond trusted the Rangers, having been closely aligned with Arathorn. Thranduil distrusted them merely because they were men, and men caused problems. He had dealt with the Rangers though, mostly out of necessity. Thranduil had always, uneasily, given his trust and support to Aragorn, mainly because Elrond gave full support of the boy that had chosen exile, but would some day be King of Gondor.  
  
Now, Aragorn stood before a quietly angry and disturbed King Thranduil, with eight of his trusted Rangers at his side. Resiran stood to Aragorn's right, gently supporting his weakening captain by holding onto his elbow gently.  
  
"I am also in your debt, my King, for your son has also saved my life," Aragorn spoke quietly with the respect that he owed the King. Thranduil considered this for a moment and nodded, looking at his son with pride.  
  
"Never the less, you have done a favor for my Kingdom, and I thank you."  
  
"It was a life worth saving, my Lord. In light of that, I would ask for your leave to stay on here at Mirkwood for a short time. My men need rest."  
  
"And Strider requires the attention of our healers," Legolas interrupted suddenly, and Aragorn nearly laughed, for the Prince had unwittingly broken the cold diplomacy that had been passing between the two stubborn creatures. Thranduil looked fairly surprised, Aragorn realized, as the elf lord began to scrutinize him as if he hadn't really looked at Aragorn yet. Aragorn suddenly felt very uncomfortable, as if Thranduil could see right through him. He opened his mouth to protest, but found he really had nothing to say. His eyes locked finally with Thranduil's and for the first time since Aragorn had met the old wizened elf, he saw what was akin to fear, or at least worry.  
  
"Son of Elrond, I am a poor host. Your presence at times is so - very," Thranduil paused for a moment, searching for words. "It matters not. I have overlooked how gravely wounded you are. Come, I will take you to the healers." Thranduil turned, his robes swishing around him, as soft as the breeze.  
  
"My Lord," Aragorn said quietly, his feet never moving. Aragorn locked eyes with Legolas, but continued to address the Prince's father. Legolas' face told Aragorn to back down and let the matter rest, but the Ranger had to be completely sure that his men would be safe within the borders of Mirkwood.  
  
"Yes, Estel?" Aragorn knew well that Thranduil purposefully chose to use his childhood name.  
  
"I need assurance that my men will be - welcomed - here."  
  
"They will. There of course are matters we must discuss, concerning the issue of the report I received from my archers," the elf trailed off, turning once more somewhat livid eyes on Aragorn.  
  
"Father!" Legolas jumped into the conversation like lightning before Aragorn was given any chance to respond. "That can be dealt with later, can it not? It was merely a misunderstanding, and I am fine. Strider stands before you bleeding."  
  
"Legolas, do not worry on my behalf," Aragorn said quickly, taking a hasty step forward on suddenly shaking legs that caused him to bite back a gasp. The last thing he wanted was for there to be any division between Thranduil and Legolas, who were fairly close as father and sons tended to be, especially amongst the elves. He realized then that Thranduil had clearly not missed the fact that Aragorn had neglected to call Legolas 'Prince'.  
  
The king paused to look at his son and then at the wayward Ranger. Aragorn saw his eyes were troubled, but seemed almost accepting that he had been unable to impress upon his youngest son the idea that the race of Men were not to be trusted or befriended. Despite Thranduil's masked concern of this issue, he none the less took Legolas' words in and was clearly willing to do as his son asked.  
  
Once again, Aragorn felt as if he was under the very scrutinizing eye of Thranduil. The king was not to be fooled and when his eyes melted into thin slits, Aragorn knew that the elf lord had detected the slight trembling that had began to shake the young Ranger's entire frame. Aragorn could nearly feel the start of a fever that had somehow surfaced. He was surprised once again to see a shadow of fear pass over Thranduil's features.  
  
"In my foolishness I will be responsible for the curse that plans on destroying this land if I am not more careful," Thranduil said these words quietly, glancing at Aragorn and trailing off, confusing the Ranger. The king glanced worriedly at his advisors, then back to Aragorn. "Come, Estel. Your wounds need tending. Your men will be welcomed and cared for, you have my word."  
  
Aragorn sighed heavily and glanced at his friend. Legolas nodded encouragingly and Aragorn could not help but note that the level of concern on the elf's face had grown. Turning to look at his own men, they seemed to mirror Legolas' expression. "I thank you for that, King Thranduil," Aragorn said finally, and finding that he did not have the strength to bow, he nodded his head in thanks to Thranduil. Feeling suddenly faint, Aragorn reached out and was rewarded by finding Legolas right beside him to catch the Ranger under his good arm. Aragorn could feel his face flushing with embarrassment at his weakness. Legolas seemed not to notice, for which the young man was grateful. He suddenly felt as if he could not even hold his sword if he had need. Thranduil was watching with a real look of worry as Lancen, Cressen, and Resiran came to Legolas' aid.  
  
"Strider?" Cressen's voice was soft with worry, as that of a small boy.  
  
Aragorn summoned what felt like the last of his strength. It would do no good to worry and disappoint his men. "I am alright. Attend to our horses," he said to Lancen directly and then turned his tired head towards Cressen. "You stay out of trouble, and I mean that. You are not as safe here as you think you may be."  
  
Resiran seemed to understand his lord and pulled the boys away from Aragorn. Aragorn left his men in the charge of the elven aides and let Legolas lead him behind Thranduil. The Ranger's body now trembled visibly as Aragorn felt the nauseating feel of the hot and cold waves cover him. His body seemed very angry. They reached the healing chambers in what seemed like the longest walk Aragorn had ever taken, yet he arrived there under his own power. Thranduil called for a healer, but when one arrived, he seemed to reconsider. Suddenly intent on treating the Ranger himself, Thranduil sent the healer away and told Legolas they would treat Aragorn themselves. Legolas gently helped Aragorn sit on a bed and the Ranger tried to smile bravely. It seemed as though his body's will to continue on had given out when his mind decided it was finally safe.  
  
"What happened, Estel?" Thranduil asked quietly, his tone less severe, more of a distant uncle in demeanor now that he was no longer being watched as King of Mirkwood.  
  
"We were attacked by wargs, father. One bit him, I believe his arm is broken," Legolas jumped in, gesturing to the limp arm. Aragorn mustered a smile at him.  
  
"Legolas, I asked our young king here," Thranduil said with arched eyebrows. Aragorn could feel the blood rushing from his face.  
  
"My Lord, please!" he started to protest, fear in his voice. Aragorn was continually shocked at how uneasy his future made him feel. The risk of discovery was always paramount.  
  
"Peace, Estel. These walls are safe. Now, I must have those clothes off. It is just your arm?" Thranduil asked quietly, if not sternly.  
  
"Just the arm," Aragorn said with a nod. Legolas frowned at him and turned to his father, despite the pleading look Aragorn gave him. The Ranger hated to be fussed over and felt foolish for his lack of care to his body.  
  
"Father, he lies. Lord Elrond spent many pain-staking hours to place stitches on his chest and back. They were torn when the wargs leapt upon him. I am not sure how severe, yet I think they are bleeding freely."  
  
"Ah, Estel, always trying to hide what you feel is weakness. This is not going to go easy for you. Are you prepared for the pain?" Aragorn noted that Thranduil himself did not seem prepared to look at his injuries, but the Ranger nodded. If he had to be coddled, he would be brave about it.  
  
The elven king gently unhooked Aragorn's dirty and ripped cloak from his shoulders and then proceeded to unbutton Aragorn's shirt. The Ranger tried to keep from crying out, but he gasped in pain as the shirt pulled against his arm.  
  
"We'll have to cut the shirt off father," Legolas said simply, pulling out one of his hunting daggers. Thranduil nodded and put his hand on Aragorn's shoulder. Legolas started to cut the cloth, and Aragorn bit his tongue as the fibers of fabric pulled free of the newly scabbing wounds. The pain reached miserable levels when Legolas went directly over the area that had been bitten. When he was done, Aragorn realized he'd been holding his breath and slowly exhaled, his body shaking. Thranduil looked worried as he visually examined the wound. Being a healer himself, Aragorn did his best to also look at what damage had been done. The warg had clearly broken the skin, resulting in all the blood. There were deep gashes where the teeth had sunk in and the broken bone was clearly visible through one of the larger gashes. Aragorn was surprised when Legolas turned away, as if the elf was tortured to see what had happened. It was no wonder he felt such pain. Dirt and grime as well as warg blood had seemingly mixed in the wound and an infection had already started to form, making the wound even more garish.  
  
"For the love of Mandos, Estel," Thranduil said in shock. "I surely do not know how you rode all of the way here in this condition. The elf lord had turned his attention to the other point of contention, Aragorn's battered chest. Aragorn knew that the wound must shock the King. The sword stroke had started at his shoulder and went to his hip, drawing a long line. Now, the stitches had indeed been ripped in many places and blood flowed from the still healing wound. Sharp scratch marks could also be seen where the warg had wrestled on top of him.  
  
Legolas had circled around behind Aragorn, and the ranger instinctively turned to see his friend. Legolas was frowning as he caught Aragorn's eye.  
  
"You have also torn many on your back as well."  
  
"This is ill. I wished we had someone of Elrond's skill here. I am not as accomplished in the healing arts, nor are any in Mirkwood as opposed to your kin in Rivendell."  
  
"It has been worse," Aragorn tried to protest, but as he did, he moved and jarred his arm in pain. This caused him to hiss in pain.  
  
"Estel, this will not be easy. This bone must be set and it is badly broken. I will have to handle it harshly. Then it must be stitched," Thranduil said these words quietly.  
  
"I understand. Legolas, will you get Cressen? He has some skill in healing and he carries all of my herbs and medicines," Aragorn said this slowly. Legolas nodded and hurried out.  
  
"Aragorn, this Cressen," Thranduil started to speak, glancing at Aragorn's broken arm.  
  
"He meant Legolas no harm, my Lord. He was merely protecting me and he is a young boy, not easily able to ascertain the world as of yet," Aragorn felt his ire rising and turned away from Thranduil.  
  
"Aye, I believe you, son of Elrond. Rest easy." Thranduil's words startled Aragorn, who turned back to look at him. "I am not as cold hearted as you have believed. Are you sure you can deal with this pain? I have nothing conventional here that will give you sleep."  
  
"The pain will have to take me, my Lord."  
  
"And so it will, Estel. And so it will." 


	23. It Is Not as If Strider Is In Love

Here is the beta-ed version! Hehe. Many thanks to Jay who has been very busy but still manages to help me out! Thanks so much! Please r&r (  
  
Gwyndolen Rhionne - Thanks for your review. I do try to get these out, but I hope you can be patient with me, I am a most busy college student with a hectic life that often explodes! I hope this chapter makes sense to you.  
  
Arabella Thorne - Well, I hoped to make Thranduil not as stern and foreboding as I often see him. I picture him far different from Elrond, yet not cold to the point of lack of compassion. He is no fool, he knows who Aragorn is. Hopefully the lack of herbs will be explained in this chapter.  
  
Valin - I hope you enjoy this! I do love Aragorn and though some like to make him suffer for odd reasons, I wanted to show that his life was never as easy as it could have been.  
  
None - Whoever you are, thank you! I hope you read and enjoy this!  
  
Annakas - Thanks! I hope this chapter suits you! I think it has a few tender spots.  
  
Aralondwen - Thank you! Well, Aragorn strikes me as the type to get himself into quite a few scrapes. Hehe. I am glad you enjoy my writing style, I hope I have continued to improve!  
  
Angel of the Elves - Here you go! Sorry it took so long!  
  
Estelcontar - Your reviews are always so wonderful! I hope that Thranduil comes across as not overly fond of Aragorn, yet still concerned with the Ranger. I figure that Aragorn belittles his own pain because he sees it as a weakness, not only b/c of being raised by elves (very good point though! Imagine being raised with Elladan and Elrohir) but also because he fears he is weak b/c of Isildur. Hopefully this chapter will show a little more of how Cressen and Lancen came to stay with the Rangers.  
  
Untouchable Heart - So here it is! I did my best to get it out, and I see you read it before ff.net deleted it.or whatever happened! Thank you so much for emailing me, you really got me moving! Hopefully I will be able to get the other chapter out soon!  
  
Nili - Thank you so much for seeing that it disappeared! If I hadn't checked my reviews I never would have known! Thanks!!!!  
  
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Legolas reluctantly left Aragorn with his father, and went in search of Cressen. He hated to leave his friend at a time like this, but he could hardly refuse the Ranger's plea for the boy's help. Legolas well knew that at this time of year, the last of the healing herbs and medicines were in short supply. Even then the gathering parties had surely been sent into the wilderness to replenish the stock that Mirkwood normally would have had. It was not unusual for a place of such peace to be without healing herbs.  
  
This boded ill for Aragorn, but as always, the Ranger seemed prepared. While in Rivendell, Elladan had told Legolas of Aragorn's uncanny ability to heal, and Legolas had been reminded of some prophetic words he had heard when he was much younger. They drew close to saying that the hands of the King were the hands of the healer. Legolas supposed now that this naturally meant Aragorn would be prepared to handle a medical incident. This of course bypassed the fact that many Rangers faithfully carried herbs and medicines on their long journeys in the quiet.  
  
Legolas soon came into an elegant part of Thranduil's royal home. He was met by archers, who answered only to his father, standing guard over one of the rooms kept for guests of Mirkwood. Legolas nodded at them and without a word, they cleared a path so that the Prince could enter the room. Legolas took a moment to compose himself. He was an elven prince and there was no need for him to show any sort of weakness or worry in front of these unruly and dirty Rangers. Slowly and with deliberation, the elf stepped lightly through the door and into the room. The Rangers were spread about in various places, but they all looked up in surprise when the elf entered, nearly silently. They all looked even more unhappy than they had before they had entered Mirkwood, and they had not changed or cleaned themselves up at all. They all wore their dirty and torn cloaks, and seemed nervous.  
  
"Prince," Methil bowed low to the ground, approaching Legolas with respect. Legolas could feel the uncertainty of the man. Clearly the Rangers did not know if they could trust even Legolas. Without Aragorn there to convince them, it would be hard for Legolas to make them trust him. Cressen and Lancen watched him with suspicion and worry, and the other Rangers had all tensed.  
  
"At ease Methil, you need not fear me. You know that I need not ask you to show me trust or respect, for I have every opportunity to command it here, but I do indeed ask you for it. I traveled many a day with you, and you know that Strider trusted me. I only mean to help him," Legolas chose his words carefully, making sure they knew he was not to be intimidated. They remained quiet for a moment, their body language unchanged.  
  
"How fares our captain?" Resiran asked finally, stepping down from the stair that led to an outdoor balcony.  
  
"I will be completely honest with you. His wounds are treatable beyond a shadow of a doubt, but they are grievous at the moment, and even Mirkwood runs low on supplies. I regret to say that it is the season for the search of new medicines and our supplies here are low." At this news, all of the Rangers exchanged looks of masked concern. Hebran took a bold step forward towards Legolas.  
  
"Are you saying that your father cannot help him?" the Ranger's voice was very quiet and held an edge to it that Legolas could not quite place. Hebran seemed to be the oldest Ranger in the group, his gray hair long and thin. However, his eyes held something that Legolas could only place as being something akin to wisdom, but not exactly knowledge.  
  
"Nay, the King will do his best. Strider requested that Cressen come to be of aid if he is needed, and to bring whatever medicines and herbs that Strider had with him." Legolas turned to face the youngest of the group. Cressen jumped up from his seat, hurrying to pick up Aragorn's well worn traveling pack. Opening it, Cressen did not at first come up with the leather pouch that Aragorn carried his healing agents in, but rather a letter, folded and sealed with red wax. He stared at it for a moment, before turning to face the others.  
  
"What is it, lad?" Shalen asked, approaching Cressen.  
  
"A letter. It is addressed in Elvish. I do not think Strider knew that it was here."  
  
"What does it say?" Legolas asked, suddenly curious, stepping closer to the boy.  
  
"It is written in the gray tongue. It says simply, my beloved. But who would place such a letter in Strider's supply pack?" the boy asked, perplexed, handing the letter to Legolas as he went back to searching for the herbs. "It is not as if Strider is in love."  
  
Legolas bit back the urge to laugh, some of the tension in the room melting. He looked up to find Resiran smiling merrily at him.  
  
"Aye, Cressen. It is not as if Strider is in love. What indeed would such a man as Strider need with a woman?" Resiran's words were spoken with a soft jest but the humor of the situation went directly over Cressen's head as the boy continued his search.  
  
Legolas looked down at the carefully scripted words on the thin paper. He would have recognized the script anywhere. It could not be mistaken as anything but Arwen's hand, and the prince could not help but wonder which of her brothers she had convinced to hide it in Aragorn's pack.  
  
"Indeed, what would Strider need with a woman?" Legolas smiled again at Resiran, emphasizing the word woman. He could only guess that Resiran somehow had gained knowledge of Aragorn's devotion to Arwen.  
  
"Ah, I found it," Cressen held the small leather pouch, embroidered carefully in some time long past with intricate detail in a design that no doubt belonged to the ancestors of Gondor.  
  
Legolas placed the letter into his tunic, hoping that in a moment of privacy he could give it to Aragorn. His friend would no doubt find strength in the words of the creature who loved him so dearly that she would give up what was most important to her. "Come then Cressen, Aragorn thinks you may be able to help." The boy nodded and shed his dirt stained cloak. Lancen was waiting with a clean cloak and the boys smiled at each other in a way that only brothers understood. Legolas made a quick promise that he would inform the Rangers on Aragorn's situation, then he hurried out, followed by Cressen.  
  
"Prince, it is best that you do not worry about Strider. He will amaze you at how strong he truly is," Cressen said softly, catching Legolas off guard.  
  
"Aye, so I've seen. Cressen, how does it come to pass that a boy of your age should travel as a Ranger and also so closely with Strider?" Legolas had been wondering for some time how the boy had come to be in the company of Aragorn and the others.  
  
"A sad story it is, my Prince. My parents made their home in one of the villages that was used as a base for the Rangers. Many of the Rangers lived there when they did not travel, and as would be expected the village was mainly of women and children descended from the line of Numenor. Both of my parents, including my father who was a Ranger, were murdered by Orcs and men of evil character in a raid on the village. They were searching for the Heir of Isildur, though I do not know why." here the boy paused, glancing up, his confusion evident.  
  
Legolas was shocked. Cressen was not aware of Aragorn's identity. It dawned on him that many of the Rangers most likely did not know the truth of their leader's destiny. His respect grew again as he realized that the Rangers followed Aragorn blindly, believing that he indeed have a destiny, but not being fully aware of what it was.  
  
"That is strange," Legolas found it was almost difficult to choke out the words. "How did you escape the massacre?"  
  
"Strider. He and a group of Rangers came upon the battle, having been warned by our network of the attack. They came nearly too late and most of the company was killed. Strider was wounded, but he found Lancen and I, we were but children, I only 10 and Lancen a mere 14. We had hidden in the barns as mother had bidden us. I do not know how the orcs did not find us, yet Strider did."  
  
Legolas paused for a moment to glance at the boy. His brilliant blue eyes were clouded with the pain of the memory. "I am sorry, Cressen."  
  
"Do not apologize my prince, my father would be pleased that Lancen and I have come to be trained as we are, especially under Strider. My father often spoke of him, though there is no leader of our kind, everyone merely follows Strider. He is our Captain." the boy spoke with something close to hero-worship. Legolas could not help but smile. He had no doubt that Aragorn would hardly be pleased with such admiration. The Ranger was a simple and humble man, and that was what would make him the greatest king Gondor would ever see. Of this, Legolas had no doubt.  
  
"I respect your determination to succeed," Legolas responded and the boy nodded. Legolas motioned him gently into the room where he had earlier led Aragorn. Indeed, the Ranger and the King of Mirkwood were there still. There was a healer there also with some herbs and a basin of hot water.  
  
Aragorn was sitting on the couch type bed leaning forward, his arm still dangling at his side. Thranduil seemed to be looking at the stitches on the man's back. Coming closer, Legolas observed that his father had cleaned the wound and was now painstakingly sewing stitches back in place. Aragorn's eyes were squeezed tightly shut, his good hand balled into a fist as he grit his teeth.  
  
"Strider!" Cressen quickly knelt by the side of the man he clearly idolized. Aragorn opened his eyes and Legolas for once found himself expecting the pained smile that Aragorn managed to give the boy.  
  
"Peace, Cressen, it is naught but pain. Have you brought my pouch?" Aragorn's voice was rough as though he had not used it in months. Legolas frowned and glanced at his father. Thranduil gave him a comforting nod and motioned to Aragorn's back. Most of the finely sewn stitches that Elrond had spent so much time on had been torn and pulled out, causing a cascade of blood and the reopening of the wound where the skin had not sufficiently healed. It was easy for Legolas to determine which stitches had been done by his father, for they were larger and not as precise as Elrond's, but they would suffice quite well.  
  
"I have," Cressen offered Aragorn the pouch. "Is there nothing they can give you for the pain?"  
  
Aragorn managed another smile. "The King has already mixed a tea for me, but there is naught to let me sleep. There are some things in life Cressen, that you will have to bear, that are unpleasant. I do not wish to see you in such a situation, but I do need you to help the King and the Prince."  
  
Legolas watched as the boy nodded gravely. It was a hard thing for a boy to see the man he looked up to, to be in pain. While Legolas observed the boy, Aragorn fumbled with the pouch in his good hand. Cressen took it from him and handed it to Legolas.  
  
"Do not worry Strider," he said quietly, touching his friend on the shoulder. Aragorn smiled up at him.  
  
"I will do my best not to," the Ranger said quietly. Legolas turned to find his father had circled around to face the two men and his son.  
  
"We will do our best Estel, I have done what I can on your back, and I will do what I can on your chest now, but then we will have to deal with your arm."  
  
"I am ready, my King." Legolas stepped back to watch his friend, noting the brave and stoic look that crossed Aragorn's noble face. Legolas knew then that it would be some time till he saw Aragorn smile again. 


	24. It Is Now or Never, My Lord

Here is the beta-ed version! Thank you so much Jay, you're amazing as usual! I am glad that you all have enjoyed this chapter, and as promised, here are the comments. Also, I had much hoped to get out another chapter by tomorrow, but I seemed to have misjudged a final. So look for another chapter by the end of the week. I wrap up finals here on the 18th and am looking forward to going to the movie that evening, my little (well, he is not so little anymore) brother has already gotten tickets!  
  
Wiley - thanks so much! Hope you enjoy the next installment.  
  
Estelcontar - I promise the next chapter will be out soon!  
  
Untouchableheart - I'm glad that I've had an impact on your week! I do not always mean to draw it out, but sometimes that happens because I have to much to say!  
  
Angel of the Elves - I see you enjoyed the chapter ;)  
  
Valin - yes Aragorn does tend to suffer. I am not much into torture fics, but sometimes injuries are unavoidable. Aragorn had to learn to be hard somehow  
  
Elanor - thank you very much for the high praise. My writing has improved much over time. As for not so original plot line..when I first started this story, a loooooong time ago, there were not so many Aragorn and Legolas friends fics out there. Now there seem to be quite a few.  
  
Anakas - yes, I wanted to make it fairly believable. Something like that could not have been pleasant.  
  
The Insane One - Well, I will take it that you enjoyed the story ( new chapter soon, I promise!  
  
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Aragorn felt Cressen's warm hands rest gently on his shoulders, carefully avoiding the newly sewn wounds. The boy's breathing was slow and nearly terrified. However, he was unwavering in his physical support of his captain. When Aragorn concentrated on Cressen's hands, instead of what was going on in front of him, he could nearly pretend that, indeed, it was not happening. That was until the needle slid into his skin and he bit back a gasp.  
  
Thranduil had finished sewing the damage on his back, which had been painful in its own right. Carefully, the elven King had laid Aragorn back to rest against Cressen while Legolas had washed and cleaned the gruesome tears on Aragorn's chest. The skin was more tender there. It had been the deeper of the cuts given by the Nazgul, and had also been damaged more when the wargs had so unceremoniously attacked Aragorn in the wood. The existing wound was accompanied by small lacerations caused by the wicked claws of the vicious animals. Legolas had done his best to be gentle, but even the warm water stung at the wounds. Aragorn gritted his teeth under the strain as his body continually shivered from the oncoming fever.  
  
Cressen had prepared another tea for Aragorn, one that had been meant to make him more unaware and which also contained a healing agent that dulled the nerves. It was hard to find any rest with sharp needles finding their way into one's skin. Aragorn had thought he was mentally prepared, but as Thranduil had made the first stitch, the Ranger was hard pressed not to cry out in pain. He was aware that Legolas was watching him as a hawk watches a mouse, but he could offer no sign that he was all right. The skin on his chest was softer and tender to the touch, let alone the bite of a cold needle. Thranduil's face was a cool mask, as though he was not even aware that he was sewing flesh, but as if he were sewing a torn sail to a ship that would carry him across the sea. Aragorn had many times wished for his father. Elrond would have been more sympathetic.  
  
Fighting the urge to cry out again, Aragorn gripped the smooth round stones that Legolas had handed him before his father had started to sew again. They were a well polished brown color that shone in the well-lit room. They also served the purpose of providing Aragorn with some sort of firm foundation. Aragorn was grateful Cressen was there to offer the support of another mortal, one who would much better understand the pain of that which he was enduring. Elves, though quite susceptible to injury, healed much quicker and were often not as pressed to receive immediate medical care.  
  
Legolas hovered above Aragorn, making the young Man dizzy to the point where he almost asked the prince to stop, but speaking was above the strength he now possessed. Aragorn swallowed hard to prevent another cry in his throat. He was determined that he should not show his pain if he could help it. It had been hard growing up as an edain child in Rivendell. He was not as fast as the other elves. He was not as graceful. This alone led to many scrapes and bruises. This also led to tears. Aragorn would be hard pressed not to remember the taunts and the teasing he received for the unbidden tears. Elves rarely cried for anything but grief. Although he was not stigmatized because of this, it had hardened his resolved and he felt it was a sign of weakness to show one's pain.  
  
It was not merely from childhood teasing that his passion to remain strong and fearless came. Aragorn was afraid of his heritage. He was afraid of the blood that ran in his veins because in the blood was failure. Isildur had failed. So many of his ancestors had succumbed. He did not want to do such a thing. Any sort of weakness was bound to lead to a more tragic end, and so he fought to maintain his control. Pain was something to be handled. Not wept about.  
  
"Strider," Cressen said loudly, fear quaking in his young voice. Aragorn blinked and half turned his head to look at the boy.  
  
"Yes?" he managed to say, forcing his voice to work. It was then that he realized that Thranduil and Legolas were both looking at him in worry.  
  
"Are you all right? You did not answer," the boy hesitated, looking at Aragorn in a concerned and nearly parental way. Aragorn let out a soft sigh. He could only imagine how he looked.  
  
"I was lost in thought," he explained, finding that the more he spoke the easier it became. Breathing was more difficult, for every breath pulled at the old and new stitches to send spasms of pain running from one end of the sword cut to the other.  
  
"Your eyes have grown quite glassy, Estel," Thranduil said, his voice hiding the concern Aragorn saw in his eyes.  
  
"It is the pain, my Lord, but you need not worry. What must be done must be done."  
  
"It is true, yet your pallor grows ever whiter. Perhaps you are in need of nutrients."  
  
"I am fine, please King, I just wish for this to be over. If I lose consciousness, so be it," the Ranger said firmly, hoping they would all take his word for it. To slide into unconsciousness would be a blessed reprieve from what he had endured thus far.  
  
The King nodded. "Indeed. However, I must find a sharper needle. Rest for a moment, Estel. I will return," the King said, and turned to leave. Aragorn merely let him go, shutting his eyes for a moment to try to harness the pounding in his head.  
  
"Aragorn?" Legolas' voice came to him in a whisper and Aragorn forced his lids to open. "Are you all right?"  
  
"Mmm," Aragorn responded, hoping it would be convincing enough.  
  
"Take heart, I have something for you." Aragorn watched curiously as Legolas reached into his tunic and withdrew a folded piece of parchment. He placed it in Aragorn's hands which, the Ranger realized for the first time, were shaking badly.  
  
"It is the fever," he said in explanation. He could feel Cressen lean his head over his shoulder to see the letter. Flipping it over as best he could with nerveless hands, Aragorn was surprised to see the flowing script of an elven hand. A hand he recognized instantly. The words were simple and beautiful to Aragorn. He could not have wished for more. My Beloved. "Where did you get this?" he asked in shock, looking up to meet Legolas' eyes.  
  
"Cressen found it in your pack, and I thought, given the opportunity, you should read it." Legolas smiled warmly. His timing had been perfect. Aragorn took little time to wonder how Arwen had managed to secret it away in his pack. He was more concerned with what she had written to him. Taking care not to rip the paper, he fought to slide his finger under the seal. Legolas took the letter from him, opening it and handing it back. Aragorn would have smiled in appreciation if smiling were not so consuming of energy.  
  
Aragorn read the words slowly, as if each small inkblot was a tie to her. She was concise in her words, yet there was no lack of meaning. She wanted to be with him. She wanted to touch his face. She longed to draw a finger under his jaw. She longed for the comfort of his voice. She missed their long talks. Then the mood changed. She was eager for him to continue his journeys. She urged him not to worry for her, as she would forever keep him close to her heart. She thought of him daily. She patiently awaited for his return. She prayed for his safety. Aragorn could hardly finish the letter. As much relief and pleasure as the letter brought him, it was as if he was stricken with the pain of not being with her. He was paralyzed with a longing to go to her. The moment passed quickly. He was happy again. She believed in him.  
  
Folding the letter, he offered it to Legolas just as Thranduil returned. "Please, my friend, keep this safe for me."  
  
"You may count on me." Aragorn nodded at the knowing look on Legolas' face. Thranduil seemed to be regarding them, unsure of what had just transpired.  
  
"You have regained some color, Estel. That is well," he said slowly, then took a moment to show Aragorn the new needle. Aragorn suppressed an involuntary shudder and managed to nod his head in approval. He felt Cressen's hands return to his shoulders and he gritted his teeth as the pain started anew. Aragorn reflected bitterly that at least he did not have to suffer such pain twice, he had been blissfully sleeping when Elrond had first taken the time to sew the wounds with care.  
  
It seemed that another hour had slowly dragged by to the young Ranger as the needle slid in and out of his skin. Parts of his chest had merely gone numb while others were more painful than Aragorn would have believed possible. But finally, Thranduil finished. He took a step back to give Aragorn space. The young Man was breathing laboriously in short gasps. Aragorn did not need to be reminded that his body was very angry with him. When his breathing had evened out as much as he thought it would, he gave a slight nod to Legolas, who, with gentleness only elves and mothers possessed, cleaned the still flowing blood. Carefully Cressen bound wide strips of soft white cloth around Aragorn's chest and back until the blood stopped seeping through.  
  
"I wish this were over Estel," Thranduil said slowly and Aragorn realized the elven King was trying to gauge his reaction. It gave him a small amount of pleasure to offer none. The pain made him feel like being petulant.  
  
"It is now or never, my Lord, and it seems as though the infection should be removed immediately if I am not to risk losing my arm."  
  
"As you wish then. This will be more painful than what you have experienced so far."  
  
"I know," Aragorn said the last words softly, his acute mind calculating exactly what needed to be done. The arm would have to first be cleaned, then the bone would have to be set by hand. Finally, the damage would need to be sewn. It did not look promising. "I am ready."  
  
Legolas squeezed his hand reassuringly then stood to assist his father. Long minutes passed where Aragorn thought he might merely die from the pain that he was experiencing. There was no way to ease the pain caused by cleaning the wound. Cressen was doing his best to hold his captain against the pain he had begun to writhe in, but there was only so much he could do. Aragorn had yet to cry out, but soon he could hear himself whimpering in pain. It was uncontrollable. Aragorn had long since squeezed his eyes closed, but he knew that another elf, probably the healer, was assisting in holding his one side so that Thranduil and Legolas could work.  
  
Aragorn could do nothing but hold his breath as he felt Thranduil take hold of his actual arm. Red-hot stabs of pain lanced through his arm. He felt as if someone had placed a molten hot spear into his arm. Soon enough, he felt that instead of Thranduil trying to place the bone back into his arm, that he was actually trying to yank it out. It was then that fate blessed Aragorn and finally his writhing body stilled and slumped. Aragorn's last thought was of Arwen, wondering if she was thinking of him even then. 


	25. Let Us Get This Thing Done

Authors Note: Ok. So I def need to apologize to all of you. I am so very sorry that this did not come sooner. I honestly meant to have it out that long ago week of final exams, but one certain exam sabotaged me and then I came home for the holidays, and well, I was screwed. You all must forgive me. I hope you enjoy the chapter. For some reason it was very hard to write, so I hope it is all right. I lieu of seeing TTT, I noted that I will stay away from the movieverse image of wargs, because Aragorn never would have survived three wargs on top of him, lol. So therefore we will stick with my image of them ;) Hope you enjoy and tell me what you think! - as always, Lady Winter  
  
Marbienl - I'm glad you liked it! Try this out ;)  
  
Nili - More pain for my darling Aragorn in this chapter.especially the end. Help is sometimes very painful, even from the kind elves. I hope you enjoy!  
  
Marie Kenobi - great user name ;) Thank you for the compliment, I am trying to work on making myself more detailed.  
  
Estelcontar - sorry for the wait, I hope it is worth it!  
  
Untouchableheart - enjoy!  
  
Angel of the Elves - Wow. Thank you so much for the compliment! That means a lot!  
  
Valin - thank you very much. I want a little bit of reality. No hero can go without getting a scrape or a bruise here or there.  
  
Elanor - yes, indeed my story is not so original, but shockingly enough, when I first started to write it, almost a year ago (yikes!!!) there were very few "how aragorn and legolas met" stories.so yea.. I tried!  
  
Annakas - I hope you like this chapter just as much  
  
The Insane One - thanks for hugging Estel, he needs it ;) I sure wouldn't mind him hugging me back. ;) hope you like this chapter. Thanks for your enthusiasm!  
  
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Legolas stood entirely still as he watched his father lean over Aragorn's still form. The Ranger had at last succumb to the wrenching pain that had hold of his body. He had passed into a soundless sleep where pain was felt but not registered. For that, Legolas was eternally grateful. He was pained to see the suffering that Aragorn was going through. It reminded him of a few ill accidents his brothers had suffered in their youths, many many years in the past. Shaking himself from dark memories, Legolas focused on what was at hand. That was the setting of Aragorn's ugly and broken arm.  
  
Legolas briefly tore his eyes away from Thranduil's cursory inspection to glance at Cressen. The young Man was not watching the elven king, but instead was looking down at his still captain. He still held Aragorn's shoulders, but had lowered Aragorn's head into his lap so that the King-to- be was resting in a position where Cressen would be able to hold him even in the throws of pain that would seek to shake his body even in unconsciousness. Legolas smiled at the boy, although he knew that Cressen was too absorbed in concern for Aragorn to notice. The boy looked pale, as if he was still shocked at the experience, but his lips were set in a thin line that showed a strange determination to see Aragorn through this thing to the end.  
  
Turning back to his father, he saw that Thranduil also was looking at Cressen. He nodded in approval and Legolas could not help but smile back. Inside, his heart swelled with the thankfulness that he owed his father now. Legolas had long known of Thranduil's distrust of men and was glad that he had overcome such things to help Aragorn.  
  
"Legolas, we will need more hot water," Thranduil said slowly, motioning to the basin that sat next to the bed. Legolas nodded and picked it up, noting with sudden dread that the water was tinged a dark shade of red. Aragorn's blood. Trying not to shudder at how fragile a Man's already short life was, he hurried to complete his task, bringing his father the basin back, this time brightly filled with clean water, shimmering in the pale light of the room, blessedly clear.  
  
"Now what father?"  
  
"We'll have to clean this first. There is quite a bit of dirt and I am not sure that all of this is Estel's blood. We must see how deep this goes, though I am most concerned that I can see the broken bone here. Once it is thoroughly cleansed then we must set it. Cressen, are you all right lad?"  
  
"Yes, my lord," the boy said, looking up for the first time in many minutes. Legolas thought he looked paler after having heard what must be done to place Aragorn out of further danger.  
  
"He will not react well to this. You must hold him as still as you can. Thank the Valar that he has passed into the dusk for this."  
  
"I will do my best, but he is very strong, my Lord. I have once seen him toss with Halbarad and Halbarad did lose. And badly at that sir. Not to mention the orcs and wargs," blushing slightly, Cressen trailed off, looking as if he feared he had said too much. Legolas found himself smiling at the tale. Indeed, Aragorn was not an average Man.  
  
"Indeed Cressen. Your Strider has more to him than your eyes see. If need be, we will restrain him." Thranduil touched Cressen lightly on the shoulder and Legolas was again moved by the softer side that the king had chosen to show the Man. It was often seen in the confines of the elven kingdom but rarely surfaced with any type of dealing with the outside world.  
  
Thranduil motioned for his son, and Legolas moved quickly to his side. He sat lithely on the bed next to Aragorn, and taking a soft cloth, he dipped it into the warm water and began to wash away the blood and grime that covered Aragorn's forearm. The Ranger lay still for some time until Legolas was forced to wash the wound itself. Aragorn's body reacted instantly, his back arching as his muscles protested. Cressen held Aragorn's shoulders firmly while Legolas searched the ranger's face to see if he showed any sign of waking. When he was sure that Aragorn would remain in blissful darkness, Legolas continued with what he knew was like slow agonizing torture to Aragorn. The Ranger's body continued to react, and Aragorn attempted to role away from Legolas as the prince continued to attempt to clean the nasty bite.  
  
Thranduil moved to hold Aragorn in place, but the Man's body protested. Legolas noted the change as Aragorn's muscles tensed up once more. Thranduil took hold of Aragorn's shoulder and using elven strength, far superior to that of a Man's, he held the Ranger in place. Legolas nodded at his father and carefully and thoroughly cleaned the wound. After what seemed like an age, Legolas finished and found himself surprised at how relieved he was to be done hurting his friend, even in this kind way. Moving away, he once again went to change the water. When he returned he found that Aragorn's body was just relaxing back down into Cressen's faithful hold. Thranduil was looking carefully at the wound again.  
  
Legolas had to admit that the wound actually did look better now that it was free of the dirt and warg blood. The garish looking skin was puckered in several places, showing where the set of teeth had entered in. There were numerous puncture wounds, but the worst part of the wound was where the teeth had actually torn flesh. Blood, the color of rubies, streamed from the wound and in the midst of blood and damaged skin was the ivory white of broken bone. Cressen inhaled sharply as if seeing it for the first time.  
  
"What did he do, invite it to bite him?" Thranduil asked suspiciously, staring intently at the wound.  
  
"Father," Legolas trailed off, his voice holding an unspoken warning. This was hardly the time for the elven king to insult Aragorn.  
  
"Well, let us get this thing done," Thranduil said, shooting a glare at Legolas. The prince chose to ignore his father and turned back to Aragorn.  
  
"We should restrain him. He will not stay still for this."  
  
"All right." Thranduil nodded in agreement and produced soft grey rope from a nearby chest. The rope was hand woven by the skilled elves that made their living from such things. It was the softest material, but held strength that Legolas would liken to the steel used to forge the sword which Aragorn carried by his side at all times.  
  
"Is that necessary?" Cressen's voice was soft but certain as he spoke. Both elves were surprised and turned to look at the young Man. "Strider would not like to be bound in any fashion."  
  
"Cressen, you yourself saw how he thrashed as I merely cleaned the wound. We must now set the bone. It will be pain beyond comprehension and Strider will react, unconscious or not," Legolas knelt next to the bed, looking up at Cressen. Conflict flashed through his eyes as he glanced from Aragorn to the rope in Thranduil's hands.  
  
"I understand. But still, if he wakes, will that not cause some panic?" Legolas hesitated for a moment, glancing at the rope also. Cressen had a point and Legolas knew that he too would be frightened if he awoke not only to blinding pain but the inability to escape from it due to restraints.  
  
"It is a risk we will have to take. Cressen, you cannot hold him and this must be done." Thranduil turned away, his word being final. Cressen said nothing more but looked back down at Aragorn. Legolas sighed silently and took the rope from his father. He bound Aragorn's good hand to the bed as gently as he could. He then did the same with the Ranger's still shod feet. "Hold his shoulders as tight as you can. Legolas, I will need you to bind his arm once I straighten it."  
  
Approaching his father, Legolas could not help but feel apprehension. He had never treated another elf, let alone a Man who had been hurt in this way. He had indeed been there to supervise the healing and help of smaller injuries, but nothing of this magnitude. He wished it were not Aragorn in this position. Strangely enough, he had come to care for this man in some way. Perhaps it was the intense destiny that wrapped itself around the Ranger. Maybe it was even the devotion to Arwen or the devotion Arwen felt for this simple mortal. Or it might even have been the feeling that he would always be friends with this brave king-to-be that would one day see them both to what they sought for their futures. None the less, he wished he weren't looking down at Aragorn. But there was no changing that.  
  
"Very soon, Legolas," Thranduil warned, seizing Aragorn's arm. The Ranger's body again tensed up, and a small cry escaped his lips in the wrath of pain-filled sleep. Thranduil then took hold of Aragorn's upper arm and slowly twisted and pulled. Aragorn began to writhe in pain and Cressen was having trouble holding his superior's shoulders in place. The unconscious Ranger pulled violently at the rope that bound him, trying desperately to pull away from Thranduil's not so gentle attention to his arm.  
  
"Father!"  
  
"Peace, Legolas. It must be done," Thranduil said, but even his own voice sounded pained at what he had to do. Legolas realized that Thranduil was getting no where with the technique he was using and that worse would have to be done. Without another word, Thranduil turned Aragorn's arm the opposite way. There was a sharp sound of cracking and rubbing and Aragorn again cried out. Legolas' attention was drawn to the Ranger as he jerked upwards, silver eyes flashing open in a startled way. Aragorn was awake. 


	26. You Must Promise to be Still and Rest

Author's Note: so here is the next chapter. I'm back at college now so hopefully things will flow a bit smoother. I hope you enjoy the chapter and when Jay gets this betaed I will def respond to reviews. Thank you so much to all of my readers for their reviews they have been amazing so far! It is what keeps me going!  
  
~Lady Winter  
  
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Aragorn was aware of the sharp, terrifying pain before anything else. He couldn't hear anything beyond what sounded like a terrible hurricane of wind in his ears. Then the sound abruptly disappeared and there was a sharp crack and vaguely Aragorn imagined that he recognized the sound. It sounded like a bone snapping. Aragorn's third sensation was that he could not breathe. His lungs labored to make air flow through them. The only circumstance he could liken the sensation too was memories from childhood. His lungs felt as though they were frozen with cold. It was like all of the times that he had raced from the Bruien to the main gates of Rivendell with Elladan and Elrohir in the winter. Many a time they had played on the ice and the elf twins would tease him.  
  
"Come little brother! Prove you are as much as an elf as we! We shall race you too the gate," Elrohir would say with a slight tease in his voice.  
  
"Do not tease him Elrohir! Estel is quite capable of beating us. After all, what kind of edain would be hampered by the cold?" Aragorn could remember clearly that Elladan would say this, his head would cock to one side and he would smile mischievously at his young foster brother.  
  
He never won. No, that was wrong. When he was younger, until he had reached the age of twelve, the twins had let him win. They had pretended to fall or twist ankles that were obviously impossible to twist, after all they belonged to elves. Then the day had come when Aragorn had cleverly tripped Elrohir and led Elladan into a mess of mud and truly beat them. It had never happened again. Still, the races had been most amusing in the winter. The snow and ice that layered the elven kingdom had proven dangerous and delightful to the racing brothers. Aragorn had always lost. When he had reached the gates, his lungs would ache. They would burn and be frozen. They would constrict and pound. His breath came in short gasps. Men were not made for the cold. He could not breathe.  
  
The sensation was there. His lungs ached. They pounded beyond pain and they contracted as if they were in protest. Aragorn knew his pleasant memories were gone. He was back in the present time, but what was happening? Another sharp crack and an explosion of pain in his arm alerted the Ranger to the fact that he was hurt. Instinct kicked in and Aragorn forced his body upwards and he opened his eyes. Panic gripped him as he realized his one hand was bound while the other arm was held firmly. Quick movement also proved his feet were just as restrained. Pain lanced up and down his chest and back. He could feel hands trying to hold him back. What foul place and situation had he fallen into? With thoughts racing, Aragorn tried to will his eyes to focus.  
  
A distinct rise of panic hit him as he blinked rapidly and tried to pull away from the blinding pain someone was afflicting on him. His arm felt as though it was being ripped from his arm. Yanking against the restraints, he fought to be free or whatever cruel captors held him. Inside his confused brain, his mind was trying to fight through the haziness. He knew what was going on. He had to know. Why wouldn't his eyes work?  
  
Aragorn forced himself to stop his blind struggling. He could hear voices now, soft as the wind on a warm summer day. The voices seemed comforting and the language was elvish. Yet I am not in Rivendell. Aragorn did not feel safe where he was, leading him to the conclusion he was not in his childhood home. Elrond's house did not smell like this place did. Trying yet to focus his bleary vision, he tried to clear his mind and figure out what had happened and where he was. Mirkwood. He was in the House of Thranduil. He was being treated for his injuries. My arm is broken his mind realized slowly. That was where the constant and unbearable pain was coming from.  
  
"Estel?"  
  
"Strider?"  
  
Now the voices were more clear. Aragorn was relieved for he had been right. He easily recognized the owners of the voices - Thranduil, Legolas, and also Cressen. As his body calmed from its tense state, his damaged muscles screamed in pain, but the pain gave new clarity to Aragorn's situation and he forced his eyes open once more. He found himself staring into the worried face of the Prince of Mirkwood.  
  
"Strider? Can you hear me? Do not move further, or you may injure yourself further than you already have," the prince sounded quite worried. Without answering, the Ranger blinked at Legolas, then turned to look at his arm. Tugging at his restrained hand, he tried to reach out and touch the offending arm. He was surprised to find that his arm had been set, and although it throbbed insecently, he knew that at least now it would heal. He could still feel strong hands on his shoulder, carefully avoiding the newly sewn stitches. Cressen was indeed there.  
  
"Estel?" Thranduil leaned across the bed and placed a hand on the future King's forehead. "Can you hear me?"  
  
"Yes," Aragorn forced the word out, finding that his throat felt as if it were filled with the soft cotton that fell from some of the trees in Imladris in the spring. To his own ears his voice sounded weak and soft.  
  
"I've set your arm and it should heal completely."  
  
"Thank you, m'Lord," the words came out in a jumbled fashion but when Thranduil nodded in acceptance of the gratitude, Aragorn knew he had been understood.  
  
"You should rest, Strider." Legolas had gone and come back with and arm full of pillows.  
  
"I have forgotten the message from Ada," Aragorn said slowly, forcing his lips to form the words correctly. "I must give it to the King." The Ranger tugged at the rope that bound his hand and tried to pull away, causing a sharp grimace of pain to cross his tired face.  
  
"Strider! Be still!" Legolas commanded and Aragorn, taken aback, froze. "I will get the message for my father."  
  
"Please, unbind me," Aragorn said softly, almost in a pleading manor that he himself was surprised at. It seemed his mind wasn't working so well.  
  
"You must promise to be still and rest," came a muffled voice from behind Aragorn. He turned his head to find Cressen staring at him very seriously. "You must regain your strength so that we will return to Halbarad in good time. You are in no condition to travel." The boy's words were so certain that Aragorn found himself frowning. As he frowned, a look of panic crossed Cressen's face, as if the young man suddenly realized that perhaps he had crossed a line he should not have when it came to the Captain of the Rangers. Legolas' eyes were also wide and Aragorn had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing.  
  
"I promise," he said, his voice sounding sleepy. Cressen's body visibly relaxed. "But King Thranduil must receive Lord Elrond's message."  
  
"I will get it," Legolas affirmed again. "Come Cressen, let him lay back and rest." Cressen gently climbed off the bed and the elf and the man arranged the pillows behind Aragorn and Legolas helped to ease his friend down onto the bed once more. Aragorn did not like being coddled in any way, but he did not have any argue to fight the two of them. Once they had arranged him in the pillows Legolas gently unbound his hand and feet. Thranduil returned then and watched with what Aragorn could only describe as relief and satisfaction as Legolas covered Aragorn in a few thick elven blankets.  
  
As the elf prince did this, Aragorn became suddenly aware of how cold he actually was, yet his body was still shaking. He did not have to be a master healer to know that he had a high grade fever. He shifted a bit to rest his injured and now set arm on his chest avoiding the stitches. Cressen noticed his movements and whispered something to Legolas. Legolas suddenly produced a role of soft gauze.  
  
"We should bind that," Cressen said slowly, clearly unsure of how Aragorn would react.  
  
"That is well, Cressen. You remember well what you have been taught," Aragorn replied again, feeling sick and tired, just as he had in Rivendell. He allowed Legolas to help him sit again and they firmly bound his broken arm to his chest by wrapping the gauze around him to protect Aragorn from damaging the arm any further in his sleep. Once again, they laid him back and he closed his eyes, the sharp pain in his arm magnifying even the soft light of the candle to a harsh glare.  
  
Silence fell on the room as Legolas, Cressen, and Thranduil left as quietly as they could. Aragorn laid there trying to force his body to relax. His muscles had grown taunt in the attempts to move and were cramping. His arm stung and jolted in pain at every movement, even though it was bound to his chest. Aragorn could feel the quake in his body which added to the pounding in his head. Sighing softly, Aragorn longed for sleep. At least there he might dream of better things, such as Arwen and Rivendell.  
  
Being in Rivendell had been so much different. Lord Elrond had been there, playing the devoted role of the caring and concerned Ada. Elladan and Elrohir had been there to bring him comfort just by listening to them bicker. And Arwen. Arwen had been there to ease his troubled heart. He could almost see her before him. He could almost smell her soft skin.  
  
Aragorn did not even realize that his muscles had relaxed and the pain in his arm had receded to the back of his mind. His body began to cease its attempts to stay awake and his breathing slowed and his mind also did. As Aragorn's last thoughts filled his mind, he could nearly feel Arwen placing one finger over his lips to quiet any last bidden thoughts and her soft hand over his heart, assuring him of her love.  
  
"May the Valar protect you," Arwen's words were soft in his mind, just barely a whisper of wind, spoken the strangely musical sound of elvish long forgotten. This last whisper of wind settled Aragorn's tired and abused mind and body to sleep and there the future King of Gondor dreamed of pleasant times racing from the Bruien to the gates, chasing close behind the only brothers he had ever known. 


	27. Read Please you won't be dissapointed

So I hate when I love a story and then the author doesn't update. And then months later you get really excited because you see that the author has updated. So you eagerly go to the story, get the next chapter..and then there you see it. The not so nice author, who has already been rude enough to make you wait thus far, has only posted an author's note to tell you that she will be posting soon and not to worry. If you are truly lucky, months later, she actually does post. But that is only if you are truly lucky.  
  
So the moral of that little story was an attempt to pacify you with a little bit of humor. I am so sorry to have been absent this long. I have had a very long and complicated year and did not have the energy or creativity to write. But don't despair. I have almost completed the next chapter. I hope to have it out by Monday. I cannot promise when the next chapter will be, but I promise you won't have to wait eight months for it. Thanks for the ongoing interest, and thank you for reading.  
  
Lady Winter 


	28. Then You Know of What I Speak

Author's Note: I can only offer another apology for the time that it took me to post this chapter. It has been a crazy year, so all I can give you is this. I don't know how long it will take me to post the next chapter but I promise it won't be another eight months. I hope you enjoy it and tell me what you think ( Thanks  
  
Lady Winter  
  
THEN YOU KNOW OF WHAT I SPEAK  
  
Legolas stood and surveyed the palace grounds from a balcony high above the courtyard. His eyes followed the six Rangers, dressed to travel and much cleaner than when they had arrived, as they were escorted towards the gate. It had been decided that they should leave Mirkwood and take word to Halbarad that Strider was well, albeit recovering, and that the Captain in abstentia should not panic anymore than he had already started to. Legolas was not surprised to know that Halbarad was one of the few that truly knew of Strider's real identity. It had taken quite a bit of convincing to get the main group of Rangers to depart, leaving only Cressen and Lancen to stay and keep watch over their ailing Captain. Quite possibly it had only been the threat of offending the delicate peace between Thranduil and the Rangers that had convinced Resiran that it would be alright to leave. None the less, Legolas could still clearly note how unhappy the men were at the prospect of leaving their injured Captain in the care of elves that were not renowned for their love of men. He smiled in amusement. Aragorn would be quite safe under his watch.  
  
Turning away from the outside scene for a moment, the elven prince let his eyes roam the room within. Even though the day was warm, a fire burned in the corner hearth. The room was else-wise only lit by a delicately crafted candelabrum of three candles that flickered in the slight breeze. They cast a soft glow on the dark room and shadows seemed to flutter about the room. The main piece of furniture in the room was a great oak bed, lined with fine elven silk cloth and a down comforter that was tucked closely around the occupant of the bed.  
  
Aragorn lay in the bed, unmoving and lost to dreams, but finally these were dreams of light. His body shivered in an uncontrolled fashion, and that outward sign, the warm blanket, and the fire all attested to the fact that the future king of Gondor still fought a fever. Legolas might have been worried about this, but the healers had assured him that the fever was necessary and it would break by sometime that evening. Aragorn's face was still pale, but pinked slightly from the fever. His am was still bound tightly to his chest and it had recently been wrapped in fresh bandages. The young Ranger had been in and out of a fevered sleep for almost a week since the king had reset his broken arm, and was finally on the mend. Just last night he had come away from the troubled dreams and fitful sleep that he had been facing. Legolas had finally been convinced that he would fully recover. In the nights that he had sat and watched his friend, Legolas had heard the man speak in his fevered sleep about the wonders and beauties of the Evenstar. It still amazed Legolas that even through the fever, Aragorn spoke only elvish, obviously what his mind viewed as his native tongue. The words Aragorn spoke were enough to convince Legolas that the man was further devoted to Arwen than any other being in Middle Earth possibly could be. It chilled him to hear the beautiful and love wrought words that held such passion and reverence.  
  
Still, Legolas longed for Aragorn to fully wake so that he would be relieved that the Ranger was well. As he continued to regard the man's sleeping form in mild curiosity, the door on the far side of the room opened nearly soundlessly. Legolas looked up to find his father entering, as silent as the stars in the skies. Thranduil stopped and looked down at the young Ranger, regarding the man for a few moments while his son looked on.  
  
Legolas had not spoken to his father much after the King had finished setting Aragorn's arm. Since that time, Legolas had dealt with the Rangers and had sat at Aragorn's bedside, doing what he could for the man when he tossed with tremors and nightmares. He had only spoken to Thranduil to give his testimony regarding Cressen and the attack in the woods. Though perturbed, Thranduil had accepted Legolas' word that the situation had indeed been only a misunderstanding. He had reiterated to his youngest son again that he thought men were clearly not as intelligent as elves. Legolas had bit his tongue and praised Aragorn in opposition towards the King. Thranduil had said nothing and left his son to take care of Elrond's youngest son.  
  
Minutes passed before Thranduil tore his eyes from Aragorn and walked slowly towards his son. Sensing that his father wished to talk, Legolas led him out onto the balcony and away from Aragorn so they would not chance waking him.  
  
"He still sleeps," Thranduil posed the statement as if it was a question, but Legolas knew it brokered no answer.  
  
"Duerlin says that the fever will pass this night and that he will be rested soon," was all Legolas said in response.  
  
"I was nearly a fool, my son," Thranduil said suddenly, the words out of character for the noble elven lord. Legolas looked at him in surprise, eyes widening.  
  
"Father?"  
  
"There is so much that I fear you do not understand. The distrust that I hold for the edain race -" Thranduil trailed off.  
  
"I would prefer if we did not speak of this father, you categorize all men and I believe that is not just," Legolas started to defend the race he had so recently become intrigued with, but Thranduil waved his hand in dismissal, stopping his son.  
  
"I mean to explain my error, Legolas, peace for a moment and let an old elf talk." Legolas could only nod and stare at his father in trepidation of what he might say. "There are reasons why the elves of Mirkwood distrust the race of men. Reasons that far surpass your limited experience with these people, but when this group of Rangers arrived, I nearly let that distrust destroy hope in this bleak time."  
  
"I don't understand Father. You gave Strider and the other Rangers refuge and medical help here." Legolas stared at his father, surprised and concerned. It was not often that Thranduil took this serious tone with him.  
  
"Yes, but I was tempted not to and even with the keen eyesight and sense of the elves, I chose to ignore the fact that Estel stood before my own court bleeding and gravely wounded.  
  
"Well it is not as if he would have accepted any of your help until he got what he wanted anyway," Legolas said, trying to sooth his father, but the elder-elf's eyes grew more clouded with self blame.  
  
"Legolas had Estel been more gravely hurt, my lack of attention may have caused disaster."  
  
"Father, what bothers you so?"  
  
"Did not Elrond tell you? Estel - hope. The hope of men," Thranduil said quietly.  
  
Legolas tipped his head to one side and glanced first at Aragorn, then back at his father. He paused, searching his father's grave face for any sense of how he should respond. Finally he spoke slowly. "Elrohir told me that he is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. The Heir of Isildur." Legolas' voice was so quiet that had there been another man in the room, he would not have heard the prince.  
  
"Then you know of what I speak."  
  
"I still do not entirely understand. I did not wish Estel to pass or to be wounded as he was, but Father, it is not as if the heirs of Isildur have not died before," Legolas tried to phrase the words as well as he could, aware that this may sound cold towards the well being of his new friend, but not meaning it in such context.  
  
"Aragorn has no heir Legolas. But that is not all. You are correct, many of Isildur's descendants have passed out of this world, but you know of legend and of hope for the future. One day Isildur's heir must right the wrong of his forefather. Thus far, though they have been great men, none have come close, nor has the time been right."  
  
"What are you saying father? I know the land is dark, but surely you don't fear -" Legolas trailed off, afraid to speak further. What did his father mean? The war was upon them already?  
  
"I am telling you, my son, that the ranger who lies sleeping in this very room must overcome his heritage and one day take back the throne of Gondor. And I nearly prevented him from doing this," Thranduil turned to look at Aragorn, who slept on.  
  
"While I was in Imladris, Estel took me to a place the twins often visited, and there I questioned the exile he had chosen. Elladan had told me of his hope for Aragorn, and while Estel and I were speaking, I saw what Elladan meant. He is meant to be King of Gondor. We spoke about exile for some time. He," here Legolas paused, feeling sadness. "He said he would give his sword and his life for his duty."  
  
Thranduil nodded. "We should no longer speak of what is so dark," he said comfortingly, touching his son in a rare moment of physical interaction. "It was good of you to have brought him here. Please forgive me for my nearsightedness."  
  
"Never fear father, for you never need to ask me for forgiveness. What part shall Mirkwood play when the future comes?"  
  
"I fear I shall have to give something I care about greatly," Thranduil said, sadness and a deep sense of despair came into his eyes, but before Legolas could press him into explanation, the elf King had turned away and in a slight swoosh of robes, departed the room, glancing back only once to make sure the Ranger still slept.  
  
As the door closed without a sound, Legolas stood on the balcony perplexed. He had little time to consider his father's words though, as the Ranger in the bed began to stir. For the moment, he put the thoughts off and went immediately to his friend. 


	29. I am Far Better Company than your Conniv...

Author's Note: Hi everyone! Sorry once again for how long this has taken to get out. I found myself with a few minutes today and decided to finish off the last of this chapter. It's been a work in progress for about four months sorry! Junior year of college is far more complicated than I had anticipated. I have been carefully reviewing this story and I love it, but I have decided to end it. I promise one more chapter to wrap the story up. When I have a bit more time I want to continue on with this as sort of a series. I had plans all along to make this like that, but when I realized just how many chapters I was at, I thought maybe I should stop! So hopefully I will be getting out the last chapter fairly soon - I have a week's break coming up and maybe I can do it then :) But here you go, I hope you enjoy this and tell me what you think!  
  
~ Lady Winter  
  
I AM FAR BETTER COMPANY THAN YOUR CONIVING BROTHERS  
  
The mists were slowly fading from Aragorn's mind. It was a pleasant feeling. He had been recently used to waking up to pain or the quaking of his body and this new change was more than refreshing. Before he opened his eyes, he focused all of his senses on the world around him. He could smell the fire burning hungrily at last season's wood as well as the scent of the light breeze that whispered into the room. He could hear the fire as well as the slight rustle of the curtains that no doubt led to a balcony, which the Ranger in him rationalized to mean he was not on the ground floor. Aragorn's body was warm and had seemed to sink down into the bedding which formed around his body in a cushion of comfort. Warm as he was, the fine elven silk that the bed coverings were made of allowed his body to breathe so that it was not hot. Listening carefully he could hear a person shift almost soundlessly, and he detected soft, even breaths coming from the side of his bed.  
  
"I know you are there, Legolas," he said quietly in elvish and was pleased to hear the elf jump slightly in surprised. He opened on eye just a crack to look at the Prince who was glaring at the Ranger without any attempt to mask his annoyance.  
  
"You are the most infuriating Man I have ever had the displeasure of meeting. I can clearly see that Elladan and Elrohir had a very negative influence on you," growled the Prince, still clearly irritated that Aragorn had again caught him off guard.  
  
Aragorn could not help but smile, enjoying the feeling of safety and familiarity he felt in Legolas' presence. The thought of his brothers was a good one and he could not help but be amused at Legolas' annoyance.  
  
"You sound like Ada," Aragorn finally replied, grinning. How he missed his father even though it had been such a short time ago that he had seen Elrond.  
  
"The Eldar save me if that is true." Legolas was frowning as he looked at the young Man before him.  
  
"Dare you tarnish the name and thought of Lord Elrond?" Aragorn questioned, raising a brow curiously, which strangely enough gave him the likeness of the elf in question. Legolas' face reddened slightly at the serious look on Aragorn's face.  
  
"Don't bait me so, Estel. You've obviously been sleeping too long," the Prince responded to avoid giving the young Ranger the upper hand.  
  
"How long have I been asleep? Through the night?" Aragorn asked, unable to keep himself from yawning, reminding Legolas of an elfling. Aragorn was trying to figure out just how long he had been asleep, but he was quite confused from all the fading in and out of a distrustful sleep.  
  
Legolas chuckled before answering, causing Aragorn to look at him in surprise. "The night Estel? You have been fighting a fever for a week."  
  
"A week?!?" Aragorn shot up in bed, immediately regretting the action because of the burning complaints his body was faced with when he tugged unmercifully on the nearly-healed stitches. He hissed in pain as Legolas reached out in concern to steady the impulsive man. "Where are my men?" he finally managed to ask. Concern was evident in his silver eyes as he contemplated what could have come to pass while he had fought the darkness of the fever.  
  
"Do not worry, mellon nin," Legolas hurried to assure him and Aragorn searched the elven-archer's eyes for some clue. He was afraid of the answer, but found that he trusted the elf almost implicitly. "They have departed, excepting Lancen and Cressen, to take word of you to Halbarad before he decided to come looking for you himself."  
  
"Lancen and Cressen are here alone?" Instantly, Aragorn wondered about the wisdom of that decision. Of all the Rangers, Cressen was the only one he most feared for there in Mirkwood. Why had he not been awake to keep his eye on Cressen? Once again, Aragorn felt the weakness of something he could not control, but he desperately wanted to control it.  
  
"You will not stay as young as you are if you worry as much as you do. They are very safe. My father has let the matter drop and all of us, including your Rangers, agreed that Cressen might be of more help here with some healing knowledge, in case we did not know enough of the health of Men."  
  
Aragorn frowned, but nodded, pleased that he truly did trust Legolas. The elf was a pleasant surprise to him. Of course, he had always been more than comfortable with elves, but he knew wood elves were some of the most disagreeable elves there were. Legolas was little like his kin.  
  
Switching his thoughts back to the situation at hand, Aragorn mustered a smile and glanced down for the first time at his carefully wrapped arm. A tendril of fear crept through him. How serious had the injury truly been? What if he could no longer use his arm? As if reading Aragorn's thoughts, Legolas suddenly spoke.  
  
"The healers say you should make a full recovery. Father set the bone well. Perhaps even Lord Elrond would even be impressed. However," he paused and Aragorn could feel his own face contort with fear of what the Prince would say. "However, I was told that you must promise to rest or the healing will take far longer than anticipated," the Prince grinned, clearly pleased that he felt he had for once surprised the Ranger as opposed to the other way around.  
  
Aragorn tried to frown at him, but could not and found himself letting out a deep breath that he had not known he was holding. "I promise. After this journey, I am ready for a bit of rest, though I must admit Mirkwood is not my preferential resting place."  
  
Legolas tried to look offended, but in a way that only elves could, he failed. "I know that we are not exactly like Imladris, but you must admit that I am far better company than your conniving brothers," he said with marked contempt for the twin sons of Elrond. Aragorn smiled openly now, happy at any mention of his beloved family.  
  
"Were it that we were in the House of Elrond I would have you reprimanded for such a remark, but since we are in the House of Thranduil, I will confess that you have much truth to what you say," he said quietly in an amused fashion, shifting on the bed, and yawning tiredly.  
  
"Rest, my friend, and when you are better we will walk these halls and I will show you all of the places the King would never allow any previous Man to venture. And you will heal, and we will train together. Perhaps we may even teach your two young Rangers as well."  
  
Aragorn blinked at the elf, pleased with how Legolas had seemed to plan out his next few weeks. He felt relieved. Perhaps it was time to stop thinking of the destiny he did not want and be the young man he was - like he was with Elladan and Elrohir.  
  
"I would like that Legolas."  
  
And so they did as the Prince said. Days passed and Aragorn began to heal. He was pleased with the progress of the bones as they knit together to form a bond stronger than had been there before. Lancen and Cressen relaxed and settled into the Elven Kingdom, and to the surprise of both Legolas and Aragorn, they spent much time with Thranduil. The King, in a manner very uncharacteristic of him, seemed delighted in the two young Men and sought to teach them Elven discipline and to teach them of the mysteries of Mirkwood. Aragorn would look back later and be pleased at this development, for when he was widely recognized as Captain of the Dunedain, well on towards his sixtieth year, it was these two brothers that liaised with Mirkwood and gained the support of Thranduil.  
  
Aragorn and Legolas spent their time together and Legolas was honored with being able to see the juvenile young Man that Estel truly was when not wearing the serious mantle of Ranger Captain and prodigy to the throne of Gondor. Legolas was pleased to find him with good humor, a sense of mischievousness and an unending brash sense of adventure. In turn, Aragorn found that Legolas was much more than the loyal Prince of Mirkwood, but a friend to be trusted and respected. They trained together as Aragorn healed and it was in these weeks that their fighting skills attuned to one another, making them formidable opponents, especially together.  
  
However, time could not stand still. Halbarad, though assuaged by the return of Aragorn's men, would not be satisfied until he saw the Ranger that was in his charge. And when he arrived in Mirkwood, he did not arrive alone. 


	30. It Rained That Day

Authors Note: So. Here it is. Really really really really late. This story took far longer than I thought it would, so I will offer one last apology. I really enjoyed writing this last chapter and it would be wonderful to know what you think about it. I will be writing more stories, but probably much shorter ( I hope you've enjoyed the story as much as I have. Thank you to all of my loyal reviewers and readers.  
  
Lady Winter  
  
IT RAINED THAT DAY  
  
Legolas was summoned late in the day as dusk approached. The royal guards were agitated, telling the prince that guests had arrived without warning and he was needed immediately at the main gate. The prince briefly thought of tracking down Aragorn and his younger charges, but they had been with the King for the afternoon and the guard's urgency caused him to abandon the thought. With no other information, Legolas could not help but wonder who it was that had arrived, especially so late in the day without any previous communication to warn Mirkwood of their arrival. Leaving his quiver behind in the courtyard, the Prince tugged on his richly embroidered robes and hurried to follow his guards.  
  
When he arrived at the main gate, he was informed that a company of men and elves – together (this seemed to surprise some of the royal guards) – were approaching and would be there momentarily. It was whispered that the men were Rangers and Legolas could only assume that they had come to collect their errant Captain. As for the elves, he was not sure of what to expect, but was unsure why he had to be summoned and not one of his brothers.  
  
Soon enough, the party came into sight. The party was of a handful of Rangers, distinctive in their black and brown garb and two elves, all on horseback. Legolas recognized the sons of Elrond immediately and sighed aloud. He thought that he should have known if word reached their sensitive ears that Estel had been wounded they would not wait to meet him at the appointed place. The twins were known far and wide in the elven kingdoms as accomplished warriors to be well respected. Many of the guards watched them in a bit of awe, but some watched them warily, for they were also known to have a reputation of tricks and practical jokes (which Legolas supposed was a fairly recent thing and would have started to spread about the time they had come to have a little "brother" in their home).  
  
"My Prince!" both twins said in the same moment, sweeping an elegant bow as they dismounted, nearly in perfect unison. Legolas thought wryly that they enjoyed the fact that so many struggled to tell the difference between the two of them.  
  
"Welcome to the forests of Mirkwood," Legolas said as he too bowed, as they stood on tradition, rather than warm friendship. No amount of antics would be displayed openly in front of the guards or the Rangers. "I welcome the Lords of Rivendell." Both elves tilted their heads in acknowledgement.  
  
"We apologize for not sending word of our arrival, and also of our late arrival. The trip was," and here Elladan, for Legolas could tell them apart, paused, "unexpected," he finished softly with a gentle smile. Legolas was not so unaware as to miss the look of concern in both twins' eyes, though they did not betray their thoughts aloud.  
  
"I am afraid it is my fault, my Lord," a new voice said quietly, entering the conversation in the common tongue, though he clearly had understood the elvish that had been spoken. A Ranger, who looked tired and worried, bowed low before the Prince.  
  
"There is no harm done. You must be Halbarad," Legolas said, offering the man a warm smile as he straightened. The Ranger, who was probably ten or fifteen years Aragorn's senior, smiled half-heartedly, something obviously weighing on his mind, making him look anxious.  
  
"Aye, I am. We would not have arrived so late if we were not stopped earlier by a small bit of trouble, nor would we have bothered you at all, but I have come in search of Strider." Halbarad stood unmoving, awaiting some confirmation that Aragorn was there.  
  
Legolas could not help but be amused at the way Halbarad got to the point. Clearly this was not the first time he'd had to track Aragorn down nor, Legolas realized, would it be the last.  
  
"Fear not, my good Ranger. Your missing Captain is indeed here. Did you not receive word from the company of Rangers that left here several days ago? Strider is well." As the Prince uttered these last words, Halbarad noticeably relaxed, and the twins, who had been unconsciously leaning forward, rocked back a bit and exchanged relieved glances. Legolas would have laughed, but stopped himself short, realizing that Aragorn had begun to rub off on him.  
  
"Yes, my Lord, I did receive their word that he was here, but," and here Halbarad paused, obviously searching for some polite way to say that the information he had received made him worry more than it eased his mind. "It is just that we thought to," again he paused, clearly not one for as much diplomacy as was going on. Legolas put his hand on the man's shoulder.  
  
"Do not worry of it."  
  
"So, where is Estel then?" Elrohir asked, stepping past his brother and glancing around, clearly suspicious that his brother was not on Legolas' heals as he supposed he would be.  
  
"I suppose he's still with my father." Legolas enjoyed the look of panic that crossed both twins' faces as they looked at each other in confusion and worry.  
  
"Alone?" they asked together, in a manner unbecoming of their stations as sons of the Lord of Rivendell. The guards tensed a bit at the mention of their king and glanced at Legolas and back at the two young elf lords. Legolas smiled at them.  
  
"Of course. Come, I'll show you too him." With that, Legolas turned with a flourish. One point for him, zero for the twins, who hurried to join him, not needing to stand on ceremony of walking behind the royalty of Mirkwood because of their own stations. Halbarad and his fellow Rangers followed, easily keeping pace with the long legged elves.  
  
"Legolas," Elladan hissed so that neither Halbarad nor the guards would overhear him. "Alone with your father? Are you mad? Not that I don't respect the King of Mirkwood, but you know how he normally distrusts men, Rangers and Estel alike."  
  
"You worry too much. Your brother has a way of making his way into the likeness of everyone he meets. My father could only hold out for so long it seems. I have never been so surprised, I must admit." Legolas turned to look at the twins, each on either side of him. They both could only stare at him, unsure how to respond to their friend. The rest of the walk to the Palace was made in silence, though Legolas was not unnerved in the least bit.  
  
Inside the main hall, they found Aragorn. The Ranger was leaning against a tall pillar of ancient wood that served as a support of the grand ceiling. He was intently watching Thranduil as the Mirkwood King taught Lancen and Cressen the fine art of painting with elvish water colors. Legolas could tell right away that he was beyond amused, but with the slightest stir of the door, his attention turned to the new arrivals. Legolas could not help but smile as he saw Estel's face light up as he saw his brother's step silently into the room. With little that betrayed he had been hurt not long ago and with no kingly bearing what-so-ever, he rushed to greet his brothers, who met him halfway. There were no words as the three of them embraced in the middle of the hall, though all in proximity watched curiously as they hugged and smiled knowingly at each other. Legolas turned to look at Halbarad only to be surprised at how much younger the Ranger looked and assumed it was the mantle of worry being lifted off the Ranger captain. He too was smiling at the family reunion, but Legolas could also see him carefully scanning Aragorn's body to gauge any tell-tale signs so injury.  
  
Thranduil himself smiled warmly at the three brothers and was reminded of his own sons. Elladan carefully pushed Aragorn away to inspect his brother for himself. Aragorn instantly rolled his eyes and they began to bicker, resulting in Aragorn pulling up his sleeve so that Elladan and Elrohir could scrutinize the now healed arm that had so recently been useless. As Halbarad approached the group and joined in their laughter and talk, Legolas felt a stab of sadness. Now that they had arrived, Aragorn would surely leave with them and he knew their time of mirth and fun had passed. Despite the sadness, he also knew that this was not the end, but a beginning.  
  
The twins and the Rangers stayed for three days. When Elladan, Elrohir, and Halbarad had finally convinced themselves that Aragorn was more than fit for travel, they announced that they would depart the following morning. Thranduil made sure they had fresh foods out of the royal stores to take with them and, though he ignored Halbarad and the other Rangers completely, he bid that Lancen and Cressen return often and that they would always be welcome in Mirkwood. Finally he entrusted the twins with bound scrolls for Elrond and spoke to Aragorn privately, from which Aragorn walked away looking quietly thoughtful. It was then time for the new friends to say their goodbyes.  
  
"I thank you Legolas."  
  
"It is you who saved me, Estel. I will forever be grateful."  
  
"It is not just for my life that I thank you, my friend. It is for everything else. I've been honored to become your friend and to share in your life," Aragorn said sincerely, bowing a bit before Legolas. Legolas smiled warmly and touched Aragorn on both shoulders.  
  
"The honor is mine as well. You and I are now bonded."  
  
"I will hold you to that, my Lord," Aragorn said with a mischievous smile. "Until our paths cross again," he said, extending his arm. Legolas grasped his forearm and they embraced in the way of warriors. "And we will meet again, mellon-nin," Aragorn said knowingly.  
  
With a final wave and a quiet sigh, Legolas watched as the party departed through the heavy, ornate gates that guarded Mirkwood. He did not realize then how right Aragorn had been when he had said they would meet again. Little left in their lives did not include the other.  
  
Legolas would often look back on the circumstances surrounding how he and Aragorn had met and when asked what it was like, he would always start the story simply. "It rained that day." 


End file.
